Something So Right
by atrosie
Summary: With the help of the squints, Russ and his girlfriend play matchmaker.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Something So Right 

Pairings: B/B, Russ/Sarah (OC)

Summary: With the help of the squints, Russ and his girlfriend play matchmaker.

A/N: Comments and criticisms are appreciated, and flames will be used to grill the hufu.

Chapter One: History of Us 

The muffled boom of thunder woke her up, and in an instant she was five years old again, leaving her bed and heading for the living room. The pounding rain and eerie 3am shadows only added to her fear, and by the time she reached the pull-out bed, she was trembling. She poked the blanket-covered lump harder than she'd intended, and Russ woke up with a muffled curse.

"Dammit, Tempe!"

The bright flash of lightning and near-instantaneous boom of thunder drowned out her reply, but it didn't matter, because he was already scooting over, making room for her. By the next strike, she was cuddled against his side, laying on her stomach, her face buried in a pillow, and he was soothingly rubbing her back and singing softly into her ear.

"Oh the shark, babe, has such teeth, dear …"

She didn't care that she was thirty years old and shouldn't be afraid of thunderstorms. She didn't care that she and Russ had been separated for over fifteen years, and that it had been (mostly) her fault. All that mattered was that he was here, now, and he knew how to take her irrational fear away.

When he got to the third verse, she was almost okay, and the familiar words were doing their part.

"Oh that cement is just … it's there for the weight, dear…"

Russ had never been able to carry a tune, and the ability hasn't improved over the years. By the time he's finished singing, she's laughing, all fear gone, and he's laughing with her.

"Aren't you a little old to be scared of storms?" he finally asked, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. She shrugged as she did the same.

"It hasn't been this bad since you left. Of course, I haven't had a week this bad in awhile, so…" she trailed off, because she sure as hell didn't want to think about it, and she figured he felt the same.

"Yeah," he said, and sighed.

"I don't know what I would have done this week, without you and Angela and B - … everyone." Tempe hoped he wouldn't catch the near-slip, but he was already grinning, she could tell.

"About Booth," he began, and she suppressed a groan. Angela's insinuations were bad enough; she really didn't need this conversation with her overprotective big brother.

"We're just partners, colleagues. Friends. That's all. That's all, Russell!" She whacked his chest, but he continued laughing.

"Uh huh," he finally managed. "Just friends … friends with benefits?" And he was off again.

"You sound like a hyena," she muttered, crossing her arms and working hard to ignore him.

He was down to the occasional chuckle when she gently elbowed him. "Who's this woman you're seeing?"

He smiled. "Living with, actually. For about six months now. Her name is Sarah Wilson, and she's absolutely amazing. Smart, beautiful, a great mom. You'd like her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What does she do?" Tempe settled more comfortably against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Strangely enough, their proximity wasn't at all uncomfortable; it was almost like the years hadn't disappeared.

"She's an English teacher at the middle school, and the advisor for the school's Teen Book Club. She's also a member of the PTA and the local missionary church, and she occasionally volunteers at the library."

She couldn't help smiling. Sarah sounded like the exact opposite of the girls Russ had dated in high school, but it was obvious that her brother was in love.

"And she has these two great daughters, Jordan and Abby. Jordan's eight, and she reminds me of you at that age. Smart, always reading, loves school. But she's got an actual social life, something you never had.

"Abby's five. She's really cute, all blond curls and blue eyes, but she can be a handful. She'll throw tantrums if she doesn't get her way, and once you get her wound up, she can go on for hours. She's pretty funny though. Conversations with her are usually very entertaining."

"They sound like fun, Russ."

"They are. And they would love you, I know they would." He sounded happy, contented, and she was pleased for him. Russ deserved something good in his life.

The storm had finally moved on, and she was about to fall asleep again, when Russ cleared his throat.

"You may not realize it, or you may just be denying it, but you and Booth are more than 'just friends,' Tempe."

She kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, but he didn't say anything else, just kissed her forehead and snuggled under the blankets. Within minutes, he was out, an ability she had always envied.

His last words ran through her mind. Was she just denying these supposed feelings? Russ had only known Booth for a few days, and hadn't seen her in years, but already he had formed an opinion on their relationship. She had to wonder: if Russ could see it, was it true? Were she and Booth more than just good friends?

Tempe didn't fall asleep for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it. 

Please read and review. As always, comments and criticisms are appreciated, and this time, flames will be used to make s'mores. Yum.

**Chapter Two: The Fix Is In**

_Two weeks later …_

"Sarah wants to meet you."

With effort, Tempe pulled herself away from the forensic journal. "What? Really?"

"Yep. She's even willing to hire a babysitter and drive up to DC for the night." Russ sounded pleased, and she couldn't help grinning.

"So she didn't freak out when you told her about everything?" Russ had mentioned that his girlfriend knew nothing about their family. Sarah didn't know about her or their parents, and Russ had been less than enthusiastic about telling her. Tempe and Angela had finally convinced him that honesty was crucial for the relationship, and he had reluctantly agreed to tell all. Apparently, it had gone well.

"Well, she was a little weirded out at first, but when we were finished talking, she accepted the facts, and understood why I hadn't told her before. And now she wants to meet you."

"When?" she asked, digging around for her calendar. As usual, it was wide open, and she could practically hear Angela bemoaning her lack of a social life.

"This weekend?" he suggested. "Saturday night?"

"That'll work," she replied, scribbling it into the proper date. "And I'm paying."

"What? No. Tempe, this was my idea – I'm buying."

"I still owe you thirty dollars, remember? And with inflation and interest, it's got to be worth at least one nice dinner, Russ."

He didn't say anything, but she knew what he was thinking. That thirty bucks had been her share of their parent's Christmas present, the one they had never gotten to open.

"Alright," Russ finally said. "You can buy dinner. And how nice are we talking?"

Tempe thought. Nice usually meant fancy, which would be fun, but she wanted a chance to get to know Sarah in a comfortable setting. She made a lightning-quick decision. "How about Sid's?"

"I like Sid's," he agreed, and arrangements were made. They talked for a few more minutes, chatting about work and the girls, and Russ had to go.

"One last thing," he said when she was about to hang up. "Bring Booth on Saturday night. Make it a double date."

And before she could reply he was gone, leaving her slightly annoyed and mildly embarrassed, just like any good brother would.

_Saturday Night, 6:45 pm_

"Stop that," Booth said, and Tempe guiltily put her hand down, leaving her hair untouched. Even though they were only eating at Sid's and going bowling, Angela had insisted on doing 'something' with her hair, leaving her with a mass of red-brown curls. It looked good, she had to admit, but it still felt too fancy for the evening.

"I'm authorized to smack your hand if you mess with your hair," Booth told her, grinning, and she grinned back.

He'd been pleased at her dinner invitation, and he seemed just as excited to meet Sarah as she was. Tempe also knew that part of it was seeing Russ again. Despite what both men had told her about their first meeting, they seemed to have hit it off, something that made her happy. Whatever Booth was to her, he was in her life, and she liked that he liked her brother. It made everything a little easier.

She resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair again and studied Booth instead. He looked good, dressed in nice jeans and his monogrammed bowling shirt, the 'nice-but-casual' look, according to Angela.

Tempe herself was in jeans and a short-sleeved blue v-neck, a white tank underneath. Her mother's earrings, a necklace, and boots completed the outfit. Angela had picked the whole thing out, and Tempe had to admit that it was perfect for the night.

She reached up to mess with her hair again, but a look from Booth stopped her. Fortunately for her hairstyle, they soon arrived at Sid's, and for the first time all week, Tempe was nervous.

She'd never really had a problem with people liking her. Either they had or they hadn't; she wasn't bothered one way or the other. But she desperately wanted Russ's girlfriend to like her – Sarah would be one more link to keep Russ from leaving again.

Plus, if she loved Russ as much as Russ loved her, Sarah might soon be part of the family.

Sid greeted them at the door and gestured to a table near the back, where Tempe could see her brother and a brunette talking. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves, concentrated on the feeling of Booth's hand on her lower back, and headed across the restaurant, a smile firmly in place.

They were about five feet away when Russ spotted them, and he jumped up with a grin. "Tempe!" he said, hugging her tightly.

_This will never get old,_ she thought, and squeezed him back.

"Hey, Booth," he said over her shoulder, and let her go to exchange greetings with the special agent. Tempe was left to study Sarah.

She was short, only a few inches above five feet, and what people would call 'pleasantly plump.' Her hair was short, with chunky highlights, and her green eyes sparkled behind glasses. "Sarah Wilson," she said, offering her hand, and Tempe took it with a smile.

"Temperance Brennan," she replied, and immediately felt at ease. Russ jumped in then with the rest of the introductions, and they sat down.

"I've been looking forward to this all week; it's nice to get away from the girls for a night," Sarah said. "I mean, I love my daughters, but a night away is something everyone needs occasionally."

"I've been looking forward to this too," Tempe replied. Sid appeared with their drinks and vanished again, leaving Sarah to enquire about the menus.

"Oh, Sid just brings whatever you need," Booth explained. "It's one of his many talents."

"You don't get to order what you want?"

"It's better just to let Sid make that decision for you," Tempe assured her, smiling at the memory of Hodgins and his seven-organ soup. Sarah still looked unconvinced, but Russ's agreements helped, and she just shrugged away her doubts.

"Tell me about your daughters," Tempe said, eager to hear about the girls. Just because she didn't want children of her own didn't mean she disliked kids.

Sarah grinned and began talking about Jordan's recent swim team meets and Abby's latest obsession with 'helping' Russ mow and rake the yard. Tempe retaliated with stories about her job at the Jeffersonian and her work with the FBI ("spare us the disgusting details, Tempe," Russ complained), and the meal passed quickly. Sarah declared her sesame chicken "a work of delicious art" and called Sid a genius, and on that happy note, they headed to a local bowling alley.

"I like her," Tempe declared, balancing two take-out boxes on her knees as Booth drove. "She's nice, she's smart, she's funny … she makes him happy."

"She's good for him," Booth agreed. "She's definitely entertaining. She's probably a great teacher."

"So you like her too?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned.

"Yes, Bones, I like her too. And she likes you back, in case you couldn't tell."

"She does?" It surprised her again, how important that was.

"She said so when you went to the ladies' room. I think you've passed her first test."

"Test?" _There are tests involved?_

"Yeah, it's something single parents tend to do. It's a way of protecting your kid. You meet someone and think they're nice, right?" She nodded. "But maybe they're not 'The One.' So you go on a few dates first, get to know them better. Then, maybe, you introduce them to your kid, if you think the relationship has a future."

"Why wait so long?"

"Well, what's the point of introducing someone into your kid's life if they're just going to be gone in a couple of dates? There'd be a constant revolving door of potential parent-figures coming in and out of their world, and who needs that?"

Tempe thought for a minute. What Booth was saying did make sense. She'd always go on a few dates with someone new before subjecting them to Angela. Her questioning was enough to scare anyone unworthy off.

"How long did you wait before you introduced Tessa to Parker?"

"About three months. Part of that was scheduling conflicts, but also … I wasn't sure what Parker would think of her."

"You waited awhile to introduce me, too." She couldn't help feeling a little hurt.

"Yeah, but first, we were just people who occasionally worked together. There was no reason to bring Parker up, much less introduce you."

She had to admit that he was right. Still, it stung, and she was about to say something about maybe meeting Parker again when they swung into the parking lot. A neon sign advertised Coors beer, and a smaller sign gave the name of the bowling alley as simply 'Carl's.'

She hopped out of the car and waited for Booth while Russ and Sarah found a spot. He grinned at her as he came around the back of the SUV.

"He liked you when he met you, Bones. It took him two months before he'd talk to Tessa."

This time, she couldn't help the grin, and they headed in to bowl.

Two hours later, it was all over. Booth had dominated all the games, with Sarah right behind and Russ falling into the respectable range.

Tempe had scored 100. Once.

She tried not to let it bother her as they turned in their shoes, paid, and left, but she was still mildly irritated with herself. She could bowl better than that, couldn't she?

She was pulled from her thoughts when Sarah hugged her. "We're going back to the hotel now, but maybe we could meet for breakfast tomorrow morning? You know, before Russ and I leave?"

"Sure," Tempe said, hugging her back. "Do you want to call me when you guys wake up? We can figure a place out then."

"That'll work," said Sarah, giving her one last squeeze. She turned her attention to Booth, and Tempe found herself facing a grinning Russ.

"Hey," he said, taking her in his arms, "tonight was fun. We need to do it again."

"Definitely," she replied.

"Marco?"

"Polo."

He kissed her forehead and began pulling away. "And hey – don't worry about the bowling. I'm sure Booth would love to give you some _private_ lessons."

She let him go and smacked his shoulder, but he just laughed and walked away. Too embarrassed to face Booth (he had to have heard that comment; hell, Russ was loud enough for all of DC to hear), she lingered a bit, staring up at the few stars that made it through the light pollution. She felt Booth come up behind her, and couldn't resist the urge to lean against him. He was her rock.

"He'll be back, you know," he said, and she smiled.

"I know."

He stared at the sky for a few minutes, then, "are you ready to go home?"

Tempe nodded and let him lead her to the car. The ride home was quiet, and her thoughts bounced between Russ and Sarah, various cases at the Jeffersonian, and Booth. A quick glance at the man in question made her smile, and again she wondered: what was her future with Booth?

"You're right," Sarah said later, lying next to him, naked and sweaty. "They're perfect for each other. And the way they act, they're practically a couple already."

"So you're on board with the whole thing?" Russ trailed his fingers up and down her back, tickling the dimple in her shoulder. "The plan?"

"You mean your evil matchmaker plan?" She thought for a minute. "Yeah, I'm in." Sarah fought back a brief stab of guilt – Temperance didn't seem the sort to appreciate meddling with her love life. Then again, if she didn't receive that one push, maybe she'd never know true happiness. "Who else is in on it again?"

"You, me, and Angela. Ange's also working on Hodgins and Zack. So we should have enough people to plot something decent."

"She's going to be pissed at you, you know," Sarah said, yawning and cuddling closer.

"Yeah, but she'll thank me for it, too." Almost asleep, Sarah barely heard his last words.

"I hope."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

**Chapter Three: Banana Pancakes**

_Sunday morning_

"So then, Abby comes up to me, and she does this thing that she always does when she wants something. She leans against my shoulder, gives me these puppy dog eyes, and says, sounding as sweet as possible, 'Mommy, can I have another cookie?'"

Tempe grinned. Booth had his own 'cute' way of getting her to do things: his patented 'charm smile.'

"And I'm thinking, 'didn't she and Jordan just have four cookies each?' So I say that, and she says that no, she just had one. I ask her what happened to the other three, and she tells me they're lost.

"'Lost?' I say. 'Lost where?' 'My tummy,' she replies. 'And how did they get there?' I ask. 'I ate them.' 'So, you had four cookies then.' No,' she says, shaking her head. 'Only one.'"

Tempe laughed. Sarah's tales of Abby's antics were always entertaining, and she couldn't wait to meet the actual kid.

"Then she goes on to say that the three cookies are in the grass, and that she can't eat them because they're 'ex.' I couldn't get an explanation out of her for that one."

"So did she get the cookie?" Tempe asked, taking a welcome sip of her coffee as the waitress set it down. It was hot and black, just the way she liked it.

"Yeah, I gave them both another cookie. But I swear, Tempe, that was probably a ten-minute conversation. We just kept going in loops – it was hilarious." Sarah took a sip of her own coffee, made a face, and added sugar and creamer. She stirred the liquid around, then looked up at Tempe.

"You know, I'm glad Russ decided to sleep in. It gives me a chance to talk to you without him interrupting or trying to tell embarrassing childhood stories."

"Speaking of," Tempe said, and Sarah laughed.

"You probably have some good ones, right?"

"Plenty," she replied with a grin. "Russ certainly had an interesting childhood."

"I'll bet," muttered Sarah as the waitress came back to take their order. The café wasn't very crowded, but it was still early on Sunday morning. The church crowd had yet to either wake up or let out.

"It's weird," Sarah said after the waitress left. "Russ never mentioned having a sister, but when I look back on the past two years, there are little signs, you know?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, he always knows just what to say to the girls to make them laugh, or stop crying. Part of that is because he's still a kid himself, but he's always able to relate to them. And he tells the best little girl bedtime stories."

"Yeah, he's always been good at those," Tempe said, grinning.

"He's very overprotective, but he's also good at teasing them. And the way he is with Jordan …" Sarah looked at her sharply. "He's told me that she's like you – smart, really smart. But with, um, better people skills. His words, not mine. And I know he loves Abby, but Jordan is his special girl, and now I can see why." Sarah smiled, but Tempe had no idea what to say. She was saved by the appearance of the waitress with their food.

"Do you think," Sarah began, staring at her banana pancakes, "that the healthiness of the fruit and the unhealthiness of the syrup cancel each other out?"

Tempe laughed.

"And that," Tempe said, "was the fifteenth time he went to the emergency room."

"How many stitches?" Sarah's eyes were wide with amusement.

"Twenty-three."

"Wow. I've only had to take the girls twice. When Jordan was three, one of the neighborhood boys pushed her, and she fell and cut her hand on the fence at the playground. She only had eight stitches.

"And last summer, Abby was trying to climb one of the big trees in our backyard, and she fell out and broke her arm. She spent the rest of the summer in a cast and a funk because she couldn't do anything."

"Poor kid," Tempe said.

"Poor me," Sarah replied. "I had to deal with her the whole summer." She sighed. "I love my daughters, but sometimes they really try my patience. The things they think of … Abby always gets these crazy ideas, but she has no idea how to carry them out, so she gets Jordan to help her.

"Just last week, they painted the inside of their tree house, and the only reason I knew was because I do their laundry, and their clothes were speckled with green, blue, purple and pink paint." She paused to take a sip of coffee. "They did a pretty good job, though. And if they knew how to use the washer, it probably would have been a few weeks before I figured anything out."

"They sound like fun," Tempe said, signaling for the check. The café was beginning to fill up, and Sarah and Russ had a long drive ahead.

"They are, but keep in mind that their idea of fun can differ drastically from anyone sane. Russ overheard them talking about surfing down the nearby crick. I swear, half of parenting is preventing your kids from getting hurt, and the other half is cleaning them up when they do."

They left the café and headed back towards the hotel, looking in store windows and chatting.

"What happened to the girls' father?" Tempe finally asked. Russ had mentioned that he was dead, but either he didn't know the details or hadn't been willing to share.

Sarah stared at a display of heels. "Sam was killed in a car accident about four years ago." She didn't elaborate, and Tempe didn't press. Maybe her people skills weren't the best, but she wasn't an idiot.

They moved down to a jewelry store, where they compared their tastes. Sarah apparently favored classic items – things in gold or silver with simple lines. Tempe filed the information away for future reference.

"The girls don't remember him," Sarah said suddenly, glancing at Tempe and shrugging one shoulder. "At least, Abby doesn't. But Jordan … sometimes I think she only 'remembers' him because I tell her stories about things he used to do. I don't know whether she's lucky because she can't really remember him or not. Abby will never know her father, so her missing him is really just a theoretical – she doesn't miss her father, per se, she just misses having a father figure."

"But she has Russ," Tempe said, and promptly winced. "I didn't mean that he was a replacement, I just meant …"

"I know," Sarah said, giving her a reassuring smile. "And you're right, you know – Russ and I have been dating for a little over two years now. He's the only 'dad' she's ever known. And he's a great one, but … he's not Sam." She crossed her arms and stared at the ground. "Is that horrible of me to say? That he's not Sam?" She bit her lip and looked back at Tempe.

"I don't think that he's trying to replace Sam," she finally replied. "And I don't think that's a bad thing for you to say. Because you're right – he's not Sam, and he never will be."

"And he's not less of a man," Sarah said softly. "He's just different."

"It's that way with foster parents," Tempe added. "They're not your real parents, but they fulfill their parental duties – they keep you fed and clothed and healthy. But there's always that feeling that they're not actually in charge, that they're just masquerading as authority figures."

"Exactly," Sarah said, giving her a genuine grin. "Exactly."

They stepped into the hotel lobby, where Russ was sitting, a magazine in his hands, coffee and a suitcase at his feet. He looked up at their entrance and smiled.

"Good breakfast?" he asked, standing up and kissing Sarah.

"Good conversation, too," she replied, winking at Tempe. "You checked us out of the room?"

"Yep. I've just been hanging out here, waiting for you two to get back." He hugged his sister. "Well, we're off. It was great to see you again, Tempe."

"You too," she said, squeezing back. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Sure. And say 'hi' to Booth for me. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

Without even looking, Tempe could tell he was leering. She rolled her eyes and pushed him away. "Jerk."

"I'll call you when we get home," Sarah said, giving her a of her own.

"Okay." She walked with them out the door, and just before they parted, Russ turned to her.

"Seriously, Tempe – ten to one he shows up at your place tonight with Chinese."

"Goodbye, Russell!"

But she was grinning the whole way home.

As always, please read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated, and flames will be used to heat up the coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Staple It Together Monday morning 

She stalked her prey, trailing behind and watching as he read a forensics journal, drank coffee, and expertly dodged security guards, scientists, and stationary objects. She followed him into his office, ignoring the creepy crawlies, and cleared her throat.

Hodgins jumped. "Jesus, Angela!" He began mopping up spilled coffee with Kleenex, and she jumped forward to help.

"Sorry, Jack," she said, taking some soaked papers and dumping them in the trash. "I'll get you some new … what were those?"

"Internal memos, I think. It's okay, Ange – they were going in the garbage anyway." He sat down and finished off his coffee. "What are you doing here? You're usually bugging Brennan about her weekend right now."

Angela grinned. "True, and that's next on my list. But I wanted to see if you'd be in on something with me first."

"Does it involve taking down our government from the inside?"

Angela blinked. "No, but it is nefarious. Are you in?"

"Nefarious, huh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm in."

She grinned. Good. First meeting's tonight at eight at the Dairy Queen on 6th and M Street." She got up to leave, turned back at the door.

"Keep it quiet, Hodgins, okay?"

He winked.

"Zack's in on this too? How nefarious can this plot be?" Hodgins set his peanut buster parfait on the table and scooted in next to Angela.

"He's part of the team, Hodgins," she reminded him, munching on fries and a brownie batter blizzard. "And he cares about Brennan, ad since she's the reason for this plan's existence …" she waved her red spoon at him. "He's in." She checked the cell phone in front of her and sighed.

"Hot date?" Hodgins teased her, and Zack snorted, dropping a bit of butterscotch hard topping on the table.

"The last member of our team is phoning in, actually. And this is Zack's phone."

"Why Zack's phone? And why isn't Booth here? If it concerns Brennan, he should be –"

"It concerns him too, Hodgins," she interrupted. "And we're using Zack's phone because Bren might check mine, and seeing –"

The phone rang, and Angela answered. "Hello? Hey. Yeah, we're all her. Yeah – both of them. She did? Really? Great – the more the merrier." A pause, then, "I'm putting you on speakerphone now."

She hit the button and set the phone on the table.

"Hey guys," said Russ Brennan, and Hodgins grinned.

"I get it – you, me, Zack, Russ, the plan concerns the good doctor and our favorite special agent – you're playing matchmaker!" He waved his own spoon at her and laughed. Apparently Angela had grown frustrated with her lack of results and enlisted help.

"And how many degrees do you have?" Russ chuckled. Sarah's in on it too."

"Sarah?" Zack asked. Angela replied.

"Russ's girlfriend. You guys come up with any ideas yet?" She reached over and stole some of Hodgins' parfait. Fudgey peanuts – the best part. He retaliated by sticking out his tongue.

"Just the one I had a few weeks ago, when we started hatching."

"Which was?" Zack took a few of her fries and handed one to Hodgins.

"Put the two of them into as many domestic situations as possible. You know, to show them how well they work as a couple."

"They already know how well they work together," Hodgins told him.

"Yeah, but that's work. I want her to realize how good they are as a couple, in life." In the background, they could hear a little girl protesting loudly.

Bedtime, Hodgins thought, glancing at his watch for confirmation.

"That's it?" Zack said. "That's your grand, nefarious plan?"

"The simplest explanation is always the best," Angela defended. "How complicated does it need to be?"

"Do you have a timetable or anything?" Hodgins asked, hoping to forestall an argument. Frankly, he agreed with Zack – the plan seemed too simple. But maybe, with a bit of tweaking …

"A timetable?" Russ asked. Angela raised her eyebrows at him.

"Yeah, like at this point in time, they'll have kissed – if they haven't already." He looked at Angela. "Have they?"

She shrugged. "She says no, and their body language confirms it. Sadly enough."

"Okay, so at this point, they'll have kissed, and at this point, they'll have gone out on x amount of dates, and at this point they'll have slept together –"

Russ and Zack groaned, and Angela grinned.

"God, man, that's my baby sister you're talking about!"

"She's thirty years old, Russ. She's had sex before," Hodgins said. "But you get my point about the timetable."

"I do, and I think it's a good idea. I mean, they're both human beings, so any particular timetable is likely to get screwed up. But if we made it general enough, no specifics at all, it could really work." Angela looked thoughtful.

"Russ?" A little voice came over the line. "Russ, I'm not tired. Can I stay up and talk on the phone with you? It's okay with Mommy."

"Abigail Maureen! Back to bed, right now!"

There were the sounds of a scuffle, and Hodgins could hear Abigail complaining – loudly – about bed. Then the call was disconnected, and they stared at each other and laughed.

Five minutes later, it rang again.

"Sorry about that," Russ said. "It's the usual eight o'clock battle between good and evil, followed by negotiations that she never wins. Where were we?"

"Timetable," Angela said. "Let's see … we're a few days into June now. When do we want the first deadline, and what do we want to have accomplished?"

"Shouldn't someone be taking notes?" Zack commented.

"No, it'd just leave a paper trail," Hodgins said. "Do you want Brennan to find out about this?" Zack went pale, and shook his head. "Exactly."

"How about we make the first goal a first kiss?" Russ suggested. "Seems appropriate enough, and it'd really be a good place to start."

"Everything does depend on the first kiss," Angela agreed. "And the date?"

"End of the month," Zack finally said.

"Seems so far away," Hodgins said. "Why not sooner?"

"Because this is Bren," was Angela's reply, "and you know how she is. She'll crack if we pile on the pressure."

"So, end of June," said Russ. "Sounds good to me."

"We should work on the other deadlines and goals later, after their first kiss. Because if they kiss sooner, or if she totally freaks out –" Angela shrugged.

"And we'll all keep thinking up a better master plan. I know mine is simple, but it'll work. If you think of anything better, or anything else we need to know …"

"We'll call. Thanks, Russ. Good night!"

Hodgins and Zack chimed in, and Russ was gone.

"This has all the possibility of backfiring terribly, you know," Hodgins told her while Zack dumped their trash. Angela looked unconcerned.

"But think of what will happen for her if it works, Jack. She'll be really and truly happy."

"And because she's our friend, we have her best interests at heart?" He was skeptical, but she was determined. And maybe Angela was right, and this little matchmaker scheme would work.

It would be worth it.

Please read and review, and as always, comments and criticisms are appreciated. Flames will be used to heat last night's leftover cheeseburgers.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: Wish You Were Here

June Twelfth – Eighteen Days to Deadline 

"Dammit," Tempe muttered, checking her watch and making a face. 6:30 pm – she was supposed to be meeting Russ for dinner. Instead, she was in small-town Iowa, eating trail mix leftover from the plane.

She picked up her cell and dialed. She'd already apologized for canceling, but –

"Hello?" a little voice answered.

"Hi. Is this Abby or Jordan?"

"Abby. Is this Tempe?"

"It is." She wondered what Russ and Sarah had told the girls about her.

"Hi!" Apparently, it was all good stuff.

"Hi!" She couldn't help laughing at Abby's enthusiasm.

"You were supposed to have dinner with Russ tonight," she informed Tempe. "Mommy said we were going to have a girls' night and eat lots of ice cream."

"I know," Tempe said, "and I'm sorry. But guess what?"

"What?"

"You and Jordan and your mommy can come visit me, and we'll have a girls' night, and eat lots of ice cream."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Yay!" There was a pause, and then Abby said, "you're really pretty, Tempe."

"I – thank you." How'd the kid know that?

"Russ showed me your picture," explained Abby. "And he said you were really really bad at bowling. Are you, Tempe?"

"I –" she bit back the automatic denial. "I guess so, Abby."

"Oh, okay." She could hear Russ in the background now. "It's okay, Tempe. I'm bad at it too."

"Abby? Who are you talking to?"

"Tempe. She's gonna take me and Mommy and Jordan on a girls' night, with ice cream!"

"She is, huh? Can I talk to her?"

"Okay. Bye, Tempe!" And Abby was gone, replaced moments later by Russ.

"Hey," he said, sounding tired, and she grinned.

"Hey," she replied.

"Sorry about Abby. She's – we usually don't let her answer the phone."

"It's okay, Russ. She's funny. Sorry again about dinner." She felt bad for canceling on him, felt worse because she'd been looking forward to it.

"I told you, Tempe – it's okay. Your work is important, and sometimes it needs to come first."

She sighed. "I know, but I was looking forward to seeing you again."

He chuckled bitterly. "Trying to make up for fifteen years of lost time?"

And she knew he was trying to tease her, and he sounded tired, but it stung anyway.

"Russ, I –"

"Forget it, Tempe. It was a mean thing to say." Now he really sounded tired, and irritated, and she felt bad. First she'd canceled on him, and now it seemed she'd annoyed him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

"Look, Russ, I –"

"Tempe … listen, it's been a bad day, I have a headache, and Abby's … it's been a bad day. I can't have this conversation right now, okay?"

"Okay," she said softly, definitely stung now, bad day or not. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Sure. Love you." And he was gone, leaving her to stare at the beige hotel wall.

Sure, she told herself, he said he'd had a bad day, that he had a headache. Maybe I just caught him at a really bad time, too. I'll call him tomorrow and everything will be fine. But try as she might, she couldn't convince herself, and she ended up dialing another number, struggling to see through the water in her eyes.

"Hello?"

"Ange?" She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Bren? Sweetie, what's wrong?" Angela's immediate concern told her she hadn't been successful.

"I'm not – I don't – Ange, I'm not sure. I just talked with Russ, and …" They went through the conversation, piece by piece. "And I keep telling myself it's just because he had a bad day, that he's not really angry with me, but …"

"But you're afraid he's gonna leave you again, right?"

"Right." She sighed. "I couldn't deal with that again, Ange. The first time was hard enough, even though it was my fault. And now that I've got him back, I don't want to lose him again. I'll know what I'm missing, and that'll make it even harder."

Angela was quiet, obviously thinking things through. In the background, Tempe could hear slightly muffled footsteps, vague electronic beeping, an argument between Zack and Hodgins …

"Are you at the lab?" she asked, suddenly amused. Unless they were working on an important case, Angela was usually long gone by six.

"Yes," Angela replied. "Long story, don't ask. Back to Russ. He mentioned that he'd had a bad day, right?"

We've been over this, Tempe thought, but she played along. "Right."

"And he said he had a headache, right?"

"Right."

"And when you said you'd call him later, he was cool with it, right?"

"Right."

"And he said he loved you, right?"

Four for four, Tempe thought, wondering where this was going. "Right."

"Well then, hon, it just sounds like what he said. Bad day and a headache. I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. You'll call him tomorrow and he'll apologize and everything will be fine. Alright?"

Tempe smiled. Hearing it from Angela made it more real, easier to accept. "Alright. Thanks, Ange."

"No problem, sweetie. That's what best friends are for. Anything else?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Okay. Well, have fun in Iowa. I'll talk to you later. Go get some food, I know you haven't eaten yet." Angela knew her just a little too well. "Alright, Bren?"

"Alright," she agreed. "Bye, Ange."

"Bye, sweetie." And Angela was gone, leaving Tempe happy, relieved – and hungry. She ran a brush through her hair and wiped her eyes, grabbed her purse and her laptop, and headed downstairs to the hotel restaurant in a much better mood. Maybe she wouldn't have the company she wanted, but she could still get some work done.

Two days later, the case in Iowa was almost wrapped up. While the police had suspected the bones were the remains of a recently murdered young woman, Tempe had proved otherwise. Mid 1940s, at least, and the remains of an old man to boot. With no indications of murder whatsoever, the cops had thanked her, and she had booked a flight home for tomorrow evening, leaving her with an entire afternoon of freedom.

She planned to spend it at the zoo. She'd relished trips when she was young, because the crowds had never bothered her, and she'd been able to learn all sorts of things. She still loved the zoo, and she was a member of the National Zoo in DC, she just never had the time to go.

Her cell rang, jolting her out of childhood memories. She quickly answered, hoping to hear Russ on the other end. They'd made up the day before, but things were still a little shaky.

"Brennan."

"Hey Bones." Booth would do instead.

She smiled, settled more comfortably on the bed. "How's DC?"

He snorted. "How's Iowa? Humid enough for you?" She rolled her eyes. Her hair had started frizzing the minute the plane had landed, and hadn't stopped since.

"I'm dealing," she replied, and he chuckled.

They talked for a while about her cases and some of his, about Russ and Sarah and the girls, about Parker ("He's coming over next weekend – we're going bowling.") and the squints.

"Something's up with them," she told him, and explained about Angela's mysterious presence at the Jeffersonian two nights before. "She said something about not wanting to get into details, but we weren't working on a case or anything. They're all acting a little weird, Booth."

He hadn't noticed anything, he said, but he'd keep an eye out. He asked when she would be back in DC.

"Tomorrow night," she said, fiddling with her necklace. "I have to go in tomorrow to give them my report, and I'm going to the zoo in the afternoon, and then I'll be back around nine or so."

"The zoo, huh?" he said, and she could tell he was grinning.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered, but she couldn't help smiling a little herself.

He chuckled. "I meant to say – Parker wants to see you again. How do you feel about bowling with us next weekend?"

How did she feel? She wanted to see Parker and actually have a chance to talk with him, but she didn't want to embarrass herself in front of Booth again. Stupid bowling.

She took a deep breath, drew up some courage, and said, "I'll go, but I'll need some lessons first."

He was silent, and she wondered if he was remembering Russ's stupid comment. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Uh, sure. Friday night okay?"

"Sounds great." She was full-out grinning now, and she had almost no idea why. Almost.

"I'll pick you up at seven, at your place," he said.

"I'll see you then," she replied, and with quick goodbyes, they disconnected. I can't wait for Friday night!

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated, but flames will be used for the fireworks Saturday night. (Friends and Neighbors Day, Woodward! Woot!)


	6. Chapter 6

For Siapom, who thought of it first.

**Chapter Six: A Step In The Right Direction**

_June Sixteenth – Fourteen Days to Deadline_

Tempe stared into her closet. She had plenty of things to wear – to work, to nice dinners, to work out in.

But, apparently, nothing to wear while getting bowling lessons from her partner.

She debated calling Angela, decided against it, and went back to the closet. Another quick rifle through everything inside made her groan, then sigh, then decide to go with an age-old routine from high school: top down or bottom up? She decided to go bottom up, which meant shoes first.

Nothing fancy, no boots or sandals – they were just going to be taken off once they arrived at the bowling alley. Sneakers then, and socks. Next came pants, and she quickly decided on jeans. They were comfy, and she knew she looked good in them. Not that she was trying to look good for anyone, of course. Not at all.

It was the top that was posing the biggest problem. She didn't want to go with anything too dressy, because they were just bowling, but she didn't want to wear a plain old t-shirt. A quick glance at the clock told her that Booth would be there in fifteen minutes, and she made her hard decision an easy one. She closed her eyes, reached out, and picked a shirt.

It was black, sleeveless, and hooded, with a pocket in the front – perfect. It fit her, it looked good, and it was appropriate for the night's activities. She added earrings, pulled back her hair, and reapplied bits of makeup. She was ready to go when Booth knocked on her door at seven.

She opened it to find him grinning. "Hey," he said, and surprised her with a hug. "I'm glad you're back."

"You missed me!" She teased with a grin, and he laughed and let her go.

"You know what, Bones? I did," he replied, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks. Pleased and embarrassed, and not knowing what, exactly, to do, she grabbed her purse and a light jacket, and Booth got the hint.

"You ready?" She nodded. "Then let's go." And he led her out to the SUV, one hand on her back.

They went back to Carl's. The parking lot was surprisingly less full this time, the line at the counter a lot shorter. "It's early on a Friday night," Booth said when she asked him. "Cosmic bowling's really popular, but it doesn't start until midnight."

They got shoes and a lane, and she spent several minutes picking out the perfect ball. By the time she made it back to the lane, Booth had put their names into the computer. Hers, she noticed with some amusement, was in as 'Bones,' his as 'Booth.' Unfortunately, it did nothing to clear up her confusion.

Was this a date? True, it was only bowling lessons between friends, but the overall tone of the evening was turning out a lot more intimate. And it wasn't as if her intentions had been just to learn to bowl better; she had to admit to wanting a little more out of their relationship. She wondered what he thought.

Apparently, he thought it was warm in the bowling alley. He'd been wearing a simple black sweater against the chill; it had been a very rainy, cold day in DC. He pulled the sweater up, revealing amazing abs (and mentally, she swooned) and, oddly enough –

"A SPAM t-shirt, Booth?" She raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned.

"It's a great shirt, Bones. SPAM's good stuff, anyways."

"That," she retorted, "is entirely a matter of opinion."

"What, you don't like SPAM?" He waggled his brows at her, and she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped.

"Odd bits of processed animal in a can? Who wouldn't love it, Booth?" She rolled her eyes and hefted her ball at him.

"Got a good one?"

"I'm pretty sure this'll work." She set it down with his, then turned back to him with a smile. "You're first, right?"

"Right." He took his ball, and she watched him go through a routine familiar from nearly three weeks ago. He carried his ball to the front of the lane and stopped a few feet away, where he contemplated his roll or the meaning of life, she wasn't sure which. Finally, when she was practically squirming with impatience, he stepped forward and rolled the ball. It curved to the left, and she was sure that it would roll into the gutter, but at the last minute it veered right and knocked over several pins.

She was amazed all over again – she was lucky she even hit any pins. She doubted she'd ever be able to make her ball do that twisty-turny thing.

Booth waited patiently for his ball to be returned, then took out the last three pins. He came back to her with the slight swagger of a man who'd done well, and she had to grin.

"Good job," she told him. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, sitting beside her.

"That thing, where it looks like it's about to go in the gutter, but changes its mind."

He laughed. "It's called 'putting a spin' on the ball, and it's all in your wrist."

"Can you teach me?" She was eager to learn, not only because she wanted to impress him and Parker, but also to soundly whip Russ next time.

"It's not something that's easily taught," he replied. "You have to learn the basics first."

"I know the basics!" She said, indignant. "You roll the ball, you knock down the pins. That's the game."

"There's a lot more to it," he said, "then just 'rolling the ball.'"

"Oh, what, your little pause before each roll?" she muttered, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"That's a ritual to help me judge the best way to attack each and every pin," he said smugly, and this time, she did roll her eyes. "What? I hardly ever see you knocking down any pins."

She huffed, but had to concede that he was right. _Dammit._

"So, what's the proper way to roll the ball?"

He laughed, then launched into an explanation of the correct way to hold and roll the ball, the purpose of the arrows on the lane, and just where one wanted to hit the front pin.

"Not straight on?" she said, surprised.

"No, because all of the force behind the ball just goes into that one pin, knocking it straight back. If you hit it at an angle, you're more likely to hit the one right behind it, and it'll fall sideways and back onto the one behind it."

She stared at him for a minute, suddenly understanding where the glazed look came from during her mini-lectures. "So, don't hit it straight on?"

He laughed, obviously understanding perfectly. "Exactly, Bones. Why don't you try it?"

With a little trepidation, she got up, retrieved her ball, and inserted the right fingers into the right holes, something she'd been doing wrong the last time – which no one had bothered to correct.

She followed Booth's suggestions of pausing to study the lane, then stepped forward and let the ball roll. It started out crooked, then straightened out. It knocked into the last pins of the right side and rolled into the darkness beyond, starting a sort of tidal wave of falling pins. By the time everything was done, she had knocked down all but two.

She turned to Booth, expecting to hear him cheer, but her met her eyes with a guilty look.

"You weren't watching!" she accused, a little hurt. Then she realized what he'd been looking at, and grinned.

"You were staring at my ass," she said, both embarrassed and delighted. _I love these jeans!_

He turned red, looking even guiltier. "Well, um …" and she couldn't help laughing. "What?" he finally said. "Like you weren't earlier?"

And then it was her turn to blush and look away. He took mercy on her.

"Your ball's ready, Bones," he said, and she picked it up and went through the routine a second time, extremely aware of her body. She rolled the ball, watching as it made its way down the lane, finally connecting with the last two pins. She couldn't help letting out a small squeal of excitement, and when she walked back to Booth, he gave her a high five.

"Nice one, Bones," he said, and she smiled, pleased with herself.

Seven frames and a beer later, the game had gone downhill. Since her spare in the first frame, she'd only scored fifty points, and Booth's tips hadn't helped any.

Slumping back into her chair after yet another gutter ball, she ignored Booth's comforting words and glared at the lane instead. _Stupid bowling._ After that first frame, she'd hoped her newfound skills would impress him, but apparently not.

She half-watched as Booth got another strike, trying not to feel bitter and not really succeeding. She gave him a half-hearted smile when he sat back down, but didn't say anything.

"Do you want to leave?" he asked quietly, and she turned to him, surprised.

"Why?"

"Well, you're not having fun, so why stay?"

"But you are."

"Not if you're not," he said, giving her a small smile.

She smiled back, suddenly feeling a bit better, thinking that the night wasn't a total loss, and that maybe they could stay a little longer. She told him so, and he grinned.

"You sure?"

"Positive," she said, getting up to get her ball. She walked over to the lane, and something came to mind: that first frame, he'd been staring at her ass. Maybe that was the trick. She turned to ask him, wondering if that was crossing the line, and realized she didn't care.

Which was a good thing, because he already was.

"Well, there goes that idea," she said when he met her eyes and grinned.

"What idea?" he asked.

"The one where you staring at my ass improves my game." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry, Bones," he said, "but I've been staring at it the entire night, and your bowling's just gotten worse."

She'd figured that. She gave a small sigh, turned around, and rolled the ball. It connected and eight pins fell, leaving her with a 7-10 split.

She turned back to Booth and grinned, and he grinned with her. "Good job, Bones," he said, and she felt an odd rush of pride. His compliments were rare, but she knew he was proud of her; it showed in his body language, in the things he said.

It was nice to hear it, though.

She turned back to the lane and the remaining pins, ball in hand, and carefully aimed. One more went down, and she grinned to herself. _Maybe this game isn't so bad after all._

They arrived back at her apartment at eleven, full of pizza and beer, and he didn't protest when she invited him up. In truth, while she didn't want the evening to end, she had another reason.

He sat down on her sofa while she went to get juice (he would never be allowed in her kitchen again), and he was flipping through one of her forensics textbooks when she returned.

"Nice book," he said, taking his glass with a smile of thanks. She smiled back and went to retrieve a yellow bag from one of her bookshelves.

"This is for Parker," she said, handing it to him. "The, ah, alligator thing is for you." She took a seat next to him and nervously sipped her juice while Booth began to dig through the bag.

He pulled out the 'alligator thing' first and laughed. A head on a stick with a handle at the bottom, it had a jaw that opened and closed when you squeezed the trigger. "This is great, Bones. It's going in my office on Monday."

"Your office?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know.

"Sure. I'll threaten people who try to give me paperwork." He gave her a cheeky grin and worked the jaw a couple of times, and she rolled her eyes.

Next, he pulled out a black hooded sweatshirt, with brightly colored tropical fish and the Blank Park Zoo logo on the front. He raised his eyebrows at her, and she just blushed and shrugged. Maybe it was June, but it was a big sweatshirt, and Parker could wear it later.

"Nemo!" Booth exclaimed, pulling out the last item – a small stuffed fish.

"I don't know what that means," she told him.

"Kid's movie, but it's great for adults, too. It's Parker's favorite, Bones – he's gonna love this!"

She grinned, pleased with his enthusiasm, and glad she'd made the right choice. "So I picked out a good one?"

"The best." He met her eyes, and she could suddenly see every emotion in them. Pleasure that she'd thought of his son, happiness at their shared evening, something she couldn't identify half-hidden in the distance …

Then he blinked and it was gone, leaving them sitting on the couch, a cell phone ringing in the silence. Hers, she realized, though she made no move to answer it. Her voicemail finally picked up, but by then the mood had been broken.

"I should go," Booth said, putting the things back in the bag and standing up. "It's late, and you have paperwork and stuff to catch up on …"

She did, but probably not as much as he thought. Angela was getting good at forging her signature.

Nonetheless, she found herself agreeing and walking him to the door. He turned there to say goodnight.

"Thanks, Bones. For Parker's stuff. And it was fun, teaching you to bowl. You really improved those last few games."

"Thanks to you," she said, grinning.

"And your ass," he replied, chuckling. She reached out to smack his shoulder, but he caught her hand and pulled her close. He met her eyes, leaned down and came closer, and he was – he was –

And then he did, and it was _perfect_.

He pulled away after a moment, and she felt a keen sense of loss. His eyes studied hers for a minute, and then he smiled.

"Goodnight, Bones," he whispered against her lips, and he was gone.

_Goodnight indeed,_ she thought, and grinned until she fell asleep.

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are always appreciated, and flames will be used to heat up my EasyMac. Mmm, EasyMac.


	7. Chapter 7

For my cousin Bill, because as of today, he's officially at On With Life, and can now begin his therapy. Here's hoping you make a full recovery, bud!

**Chapter Seven: Trouble With Boys**

_June Twenty-fourth, Six days until Deadline … or so the squints think_

"Yay!" Parker cheered as Tempe got another spare. She'd retained her lessons from the previous week and was holding her own, though she still wasn't up to Booth's level. They were back at Carl's, and since it was early evening, the alley was only half-full. League bowling didn't start until six, Booth had explained when they arrived.

Parker was surprisingly good, though she honestly couldn't tell if it was because he'd inherited he father's talents or if it was just dumb luck. He had his own little bowling ball and shoes, and his routine was an exact replica of his dad's, down to the time he spent studying the lane and the faces he made when his ball rolled into the gutter.

He got up now to take his turn, and she sat in his spot and grinned at Booth. "Nice spare," he told her, and she blushed. She'd been doing a lot of that in the past hour, something that completely annoyed her.

They hadn't seen each other all week, though they'd spoken a bit on the phone. It seemed as though she'd had a week of reprieve and was now feeling the aftereffects of their first kiss every time he looked at her. She wondered how long this would go on; it was getting a little embarrassing.

She was a grown woman, for God's sake. She'd made out with men before, has sex before, but she'd never had this reaction. She had a feeling she knew what this meant, but even though she'd decided to maybe – _maybe_ – pursue a relationship with Booth, she wasn't ready to face the facts. For now, it was an experimental thing, and conclusions could be drawn later.

Parker knocked down four pins, waited patiently for his ball to be returned, and took out three more. He came back and sat down next to her, and she gave him a high five.

She'd been surprised with how much he seemed to like her, considering they'd only met briefly at Christmas the year before. But Booth had cleared up the mystery in the car on the way to the alley.

"I've been telling him about you for awhile, Bones. Talking about how we work together, things like that. So he's heard a lot about you. And he's seen you before, and I have a couple of pictures of you –"

"Wait," she'd interrupted. "Where'd you get pictures of me?"

"Angela," he'd replied. "Anyway, he knows what you look like. Plus, you got him a cool sweatshirt and a 'Nemo' fish, so he knows you like him."

"And he likes me back," she'd said, "just like that?"

"Well, yeah. Kids aren't as complicated as adults, Bones. They either like you or they don't. And they generally have no reason to pretend otherwise."

She was jolted back to the present when Parker let out a cheer. Booth had gotten yet another strike, and his son was just as enthusiastic now as he had been the first time. She gave Booth a high five and prepared to take her turn, knowing that, Parker or no Parker, Booth was staring at her ass.

She still thought it helped her bowling.

Tempe watched in amazement as Parker consumed five pieces of pizza and went through two glasses of soda, wondering where he put it all and how long the hyperactivity would last. Right now, the boy was in a corner of Pizza Hut devoted to video games, and she and Booth were talking at their table. She had a perfect view as the boy jumped and cheered another kid on, and she kept an eagle eye trained on him.

"And that's about when the pigs started flying. You aren't listening to me, are you, Bones?"

"I'm sorry – what?" She glanced back at him, then blushed. "Sorry, I've been watching Parker."

"It's okay," he said, reaching across the table and squeezing her hand. She squeezed back and resisted the urge to link their fingers, instead looking back at Parker.

"I've just realized how many things could happen to him," she said, turning and meeting his eyes. "I mean, I knew, in this line of work there's no way I couldn't, but I never really realized until recently just what could go wrong." She looked back at the little boy. "How do you do it?"

"I pray," he said simply, letting go of her hand as Parker came running up, asking for quarters. Booth found a few in his pockets, and Tempe found some in her purse. With a quick 'thanks,' Parker ran back to the game, something called 'Cruisin' the World.' According to Booth, it involved racing fast cars and ogling scantily clad women.

Frankly, she preferred talking with Booth and ogling him.

"I haven't talked to any of the squints lately – how are they doing?" he asked, genuinely curious. Tempe told him about Angela's new painting, about Hodgins' attempts to train more racing bugs, and about Zack's work on his thesis. He responded with an anecdote about something at work, and pretty soon, Parker ran out of quarters. When he came running up to ask for more, Booth said it was time to go home. Parker protested – loudly – but Booth managed to quiet him with a quick whisper in his ear.

"Oh yeah!" Parker said, giving her a mini version of Booth's 'charm smile,' and Tempe wondered what they had up their sleeves.

'Finding Nemo,' as it turned out, and at first she was reluctant to stay and watch. It was a kid's movie, after all, and Booth's time with his son was precious – she didn't want to intrude too much.

But Parker pleaded and Booth offered both popcorn and ice cream, and she caved in and agreed to stay.

It turned out to be a pretty good movie. She could understand why both father and son loved it, and she'd enjoyed the culture of the tank fish. She'd even understood the significance of the music played whenever the dentist's niece Darla was mentioned.

Parker had crashed about halfway through, and as the credits rolled, he began snoring from his position on Booth's lap. Leaning against his dad's shoulder, Tempe had a perfect view, and with his blond curls and innocent expression, he looked like a cherub. She told Booth so, and he laughed.

"Sure he is, until you're in the middle of the grocery store and he's throwing a fit over a bag of candy," he replied.

She waited on the couch while he put his son to bed, silently dreading the upcoming conversation. They hadn't talked about the kiss yet, and she knew it was only a matter of time before one of them brought it up.

Sure enough, when he sat back down, Booth began. "About last week … I'm sorry if I crossed any lines, but I couldn't help it. It seemed like the perfect way to end a great evening, and –"

"Booth," she interrupted with a smile, "I don't think we crossed any lines."

"No?" He looked surprised, and she realized: he'd been expecting her to be angry about the kiss, or repulsed, or annoyed. Apparently the night hadn't erased his doubts about the previous Friday. _Poor, clueless Booth._

"As a matter of fact," she said, scooting closer, "I'm pretty sure I wanted that kiss just as much as you did."

"Yeah?" He leaned down, and she could feel his breath against her lips.

"Oh yeah," she replied, and kissed him.

"You know we still need to talk about this," she told him a little bit later, propping her head on his chest. They were lounging on the couch, slightly mussed, and more than a little out of breath.

"I know," he said, playing with her hair.

"Because 'just friends' isn't going to cut it, Booth, but I don't know – I'm not sure – I don't want to destroy what we already have."

"You're so sure we wouldn't work?" He sounded hurt, and she hurried to reassure him.

"I've never had a successful serious relationship. I mean, how do we know that we can be together romantically and still be partners? Because it's going to change a lot of things." She met his eyes and knew hers were filled with worry.

"We don't have to rush into anything," he told her. "We could just do it normally, a step at a time."

She liked that idea. "So, what's the next step?"

"Well, Rebecca leaves July first for a business trip to France, so I have Parker for a little over three weeks. Why don't you join us for the celebration on the Fourth? As my date, not just as a friend. You know, to see how things would work."

She wanted to, but … "Russ and Sarah are coming up for that, and they're bringing the girls. And Angela said something about her and Zack and Hodgins joining us."

"And that's a bad thing?"

She raised an eyebrow. "There'll be three kids with us, five if you count Hodgins and Zack, and five adults. The minute we do anything date-like, Angela and Russ'll be all over it. I'd rather not have them know yet."

He studied her. "Any particular reason why?"

Burying her head in his chest, she wondered that herself. Her reluctance to tell Angela about her new potential relationship stymied her – it certainly wasn't her normal reaction. Maybe it was the fact that Ange had been pushing it for so long and she just didn't want to hear the 'I told you so.' Maybe she just wanted to keep it to herself for as long as possible, to enjoy it without having to give away every little detail. Maybe she wanted as little interference as possible from everyone.

Maybe she was afraid it wouldn't work out, and if that happened, she would rather deal with the pain by herself.

"A few reasons," she finally admitted, meeting his eyes. "But for right now, I'd just rather not have any interference. It's going to be hard enough sometimes, separating work from 'us,' and I just … I want to give that 'us' a chance."

"And you also don't want to deal with Russ's teasing yet," he said, and she could feel him laughing beneath her.

"And that," she grinned. "Ugh, what time is it?"

He checked his watch and put his hand back on her ass. "Nearly midnight," he said, gently squeezing. She squirmed.

"Stop that, Booth. I need to leave soon."

"Why? Hot date tomorrow?" he teased, and she rolled her eyes and sat up.

"Angela and I are going shopping." She straightened out her shirt and re-hooked her bra. "You popped a button," she said accusingly, looking up from the front of her blouse and frowning at him. "I liked this shirt, Booth!"

He grinned, unrepentant. "Better view now, though."

She chuffed and got up from the couch. He rose after her and walked her to the door, grabbing her purse on the way. She reached for it, but he held it up.

"Booth," she said warningly, and he grinned.

"One kiss for your keys, two for your purse. Three if you want your cell back."

"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" She pretended to debate, then moved forward and kissed him. He wrapped his free arm around her, keeping her there while he kissed her back.

He finally released her, and she took her purse, checking to make sure her phone and keys were inside. Opening the door, she stepped outside, and turned back to find him watching her.

"You didn't have to resort to bribery, Booth. I would have kissed you anyway."

She could hear his laughter all the way home.

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated, and flames will be used for heating … hmmm … ramen noodles. Yeah, I'm going with the noodles. Yummy noodles.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable.

A/N: Just a warning - Chapter Nine will be up sometime before Monday, but Chapter Ten won't be up for at least a week after that. I'm moving back to Colorado, and finding a job becomes a top priority, followed by unpacking and then writing. Huge apologies, but that's life, eh?

**Chapter Eight: The Return of the French Mafia**

_July First_

Three squints sat dejectedly at a table in their local Dairy Queen. Angela nursed some onion rings – a favorite consolation food – and a concoction that was more chocolate than ice cream. Hodgins was working his way through hot dog number three, and Zack was picking apart his second cheeseburger.

"I said no tomatoes," he muttered, setting the fruit aside and making a face. "Now it's going to have a tomato taste."

Hodgins rolled his eyes, but Angela was too depressed to even do that.

"I can't believe we failed," she moaned, picking the fried batter off the onion and popping it into her mouth, dropping the naked onion back into the basket. "We had such a simple objective – get them to kiss – and we couldn't even accomplish that!"

"Maybe we set the goal too high," Zack suggested, eyeing his rebuilt cheeseburger and glaring at the limp tomato. "Maybe we should have started smaller." He took a bite and shrugged; obviously, the tomato hadn't left too much of an aftertaste.

"What's smaller than kissing?" countered Angela. "Nothing's smaller than kissing." She eyed her onions and went for the chocolate instead.

"We could give them more time," said Hodgins, swallowing the last of his hot dog.

"We've already given them enough," muttered Angela, but she had to concede that he was right. They would just have to give them more time.

Which annoyed her: they'd given them plenty of time already. In the beginning of their partnership, she'd have loved it if they had just slept together, no relationship required. It would have gotten rid of the tension, at least, and then things could have gone on. Maybe Brennan would have been able to have a relationship with David, maybe not. But now they were too involved work-wise to just have sex. Now there had to be something else there; Booth at least would insist on that.

She just wanted them together. She just wanted her best friend to be happy.

Across the table, Zack's cell phone rang, and she reached out and answered it.

"Hi," Russ said, sounding only half as glum as she'd expected. After all, he wanted his little sister happy, too.

"Hey."

"Whoa – you sound depressed. Why?"

She stared at the phone. Was he kidding?

"We missed the deadline, Russ. They haven't kissed."

"Yeah? So? Come on, Angela. This is Tempe we're talking about. So what, we missed the first deadline we set. Make another one for the same goal and try again. We'll probably see more success."

He knew something, she realized, and it was giving him confidence. She wanted in. "And what makes you say that?"

He didn't reply for a minute, and she could hear the faint sounds of running water and clinking glasses. "All I know is that last weekend she went bowling with Booth and his son. It wasn't a date – you don't go on a date with your kid. But if he's involving her in things with his son, and she's going along with it …"

"She told you that? She didn't mention anything to me." And she hadn't, not one word, Angela thought, hurt. Nothing had been said about Booth or bowling or Parker. Weren't best friends supposed to tell each other these things?

But then again, you probably weren't supposed to plot out your best friend's love life, regardless of how clueless said friend was.

Hodgins had started in on his parfait, and he waved a loaded spoon at her, offering a bite. She shook her head.

"The only reason I even know anything about that, Angela, is because we're all getting together for the Fourth. We were finalizing plans, and I wanted to make sure Parker and the girls would get along, so I asked her what he was like."

"Oh." That made sense. And they all were getting together for the holiday; she was really looking forward to it. But she still felt that Bren should have told her. There had been clues that she'd had a good weekend, but Angela hadn't connected anything. "That also explains why she was in such a good mood Monday morning."

"What does?" Hodgins asked, poking her shoulder. She ignored him.

"She was in a good mood, huh?" Russ sounded pleased. "Then all hope is not lost, Ange. We just need to set a new deadline. Maybe we could try to get them to do something on the Fourth."

"Like what?" Angela could hear a sudden crash in the background, followed by a lot of yelling.

"Crap," muttered Russ, sounding distracted. "I gotta go, Angela. See you on Tuesday." And he was gone.

Hodgins and Zack listened as she explained the situation. "So we're supposed to set a new date, and maybe try for something on Tuesday."

"What should we get them to do?" asked Zack, looking as clueless as she felt. Hodgins just gave her a thoughtful look.

"There'll be games there, right? Like a midway or something?"

"Yeah," she replied, wondering where he was going. "So?"

"Well, Booth used to be a sniper, and they always have some sort of shooting game at these things. Brennan's competitive; get them to go up against each other, and have the winner kiss the loser or something."

Angela wrinkled her nose. "It's a good idea, Jack, but … they'd kiss, sure, but forcing them doesn't seem fair. It's like cheating, or mistletoe."

"Damn," he muttered, conceding the point.

"It was a good idea, though," she comforted him. "Just not what we needed. Onion ring?"

"Maybe we can just abandon them," Zack suggested suddenly. Angela raised her eyebrows, and he explained. "You know, just kind of 'accidentally' walk away, leaving them alone. At the least, it would give them time together, kind of like a date."

Hodgins and Angela didn't say anything, and Zack shrugged, embarrassed. "Never mind, I was just thinking out loud."

"Actually, Zack, it's a great idea. And it could work," Angela told him. "Because if there weren't any kids around, they wouldn't be distracted. And without us there to watch them, maybe they'd do something."

"It's the best plan we've got," Hodgins said. "Good one, Zack."

"Yeah, Zack. Nice job," Angela chimed in. The young man blushed and grinned, looking pleased. "So that's what we'll do. I'll let Russ and Sarah know, and they can help." In a much better mood, she shoved away the half-empty basket of onions and onion rings. "Anyone else want these?"

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are always appreciated, and flames will be converted magically into money. Stupid gas prices.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I own nothing recognizable. Sorry.

Yes, this was supposed to be up before the Emmys, but wouldn't let my document load. Sorry!

This chapter is for Jean Yanders and Carol Stuard, two of the most amazing people I've ever met. You inspire me, ladies.

A/N#1: This will be the last new chapter for at least a week. It's long, so hopefully it'll tide you through. Please remember to read and review. More author's notes at the end.

**Chapter Nine: Secrets and Lies**

_July Fourth_

Giggles came from the back seat, and Tempe turned around. "What's so funny, you two?"

Parker and Abby just laughed more, and Jordan shook her head and went back to her book. Tempe rolled her eyes and faced forward, meeting Russ's gaze in the rearview mirror and grinning.

She had hoped that all the kids would get along, but Abby and Parker had exceeded her expectations. Five minutes into dinner the previous night, they had been giggling and sharing secrets. They were now fast friends, and when they'd met at the hotel for breakfast, they'd acted as though they'd been parted for years instead of hours.

The giggling continued, but she ignored it, choosing instead to concentrate on the feeling of Booth's hand secretly holding hers, hidden between their legs and beneath her backpack. It was probably the only time all day that they'd be able to do anything like this, and she wanted to appreciate it while it lasted.

In front of them, Sarah was reading through a newspaper insert about the celebration, mentioning various things she thought they'd all enjoy. "There's a juggler at eleven, and clowns at noon –"

"Absolutely not," Russ interrupted, and Sarah glanced over at him.

"Oh, right. Sorry." She crossed the clown act off of her schedule and went on, and Tempe disappeared into the past. Memories of her first and only circus visit at age five, where she had enviously watched the trapeze artists and Russ had freaked when he'd seen the clowns. He'd had nightmares for weeks after. Sarah jolted her back to the present.

"And when are we meeting your friends again, Tempe?"

"Three o'clock, in front of the Jeffersonian."

Behind her, Abby let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement. Without even turning around, Sarah warned her to calm down. There was a brief moment of blissful silence, then the giggling began again.

Russ, battling the holiday traffic on the Beltway, met her eyes again in the mirror and rolled his, and she grinned. As long as they weren't fighting, everything was peachy with her.

Sarah went through a few more things, circling some items, crossing off others, then pulled out a notepad and worked out a tentative schedule. Tempe was impressed with her organization, but not really surprised. The woman was a middle school teacher, after all. Sarah made a copy and handed it back to her.

"Obviously, we don't have to follow this, but Abby works better with some sort of schedule."

Tempe looked it over. Midway games, rides, the jugglers' show, lunch, more games, a magic show, more rides, the squints, more games, crafts booths, more rides, dinner, fireworks – Sarah had included everything. "It looks great," she told her, disentangling her hand from Booth's to fold the paper and put it in her pocket.

In the back seat, Parker and Abby had started singing a song about lazy pirates. Hearing this, Sarah turned and grinned at Booth. "I take it you're a fan of 'Veggie Tales' too?"

He grinned back. "We are. He's got a few of the CDs and all of the movies."

"So do we," she said, turning back around as Russ took their ext. He turned onto Independence Avenue as the song changed to something featuring 'cébus,' and soon they were parked in Tempe's spot at the Jeffersonian and tumbling out of the car.

"You work here?" Abby asked, staring at the impressive building and the fountain in front.

"I do," Tempe replied, helping Sarah get a little red wagon out of the back. "You guys can come visit me here tomorrow, if you want."

She and Russ and Sarah had talked about it, and they had agreed that the girls would enjoy the museum, especially if Tempe gave them a behind-the-scenes tour. "Jordan loves to learn, so she'll have fun. And Abby just thinks you're cool. You could probably take her to a dump and she'd like it." Russ had told her when she asked.

"Cool!" Abby said now, reaching up and taking one of her hands. Parker, seeing this, took her other hand and stuck his tongue out at Abby. She made a hideous face back at him, and Tempe wondered where the happy, singing kids had gone.

Sarah must have sensed impending disaster, because she called Abby over and told her to take a seat in the wagon. The little girl made a face but sat down, and Parker smirked at her and began victoriously swinging their linked hands.

They headed over to the celebration, and Tempe silently marveled at the fact that she'd lived in DC for so many years but had never been to the fireworks before. They went in through the southeast entrance, and she was hit by the sights, sounds, and smells of thousands of people. Parker gripped her hand tightly, obviously overwhelmed, and Booth, on his other side, picked him up and set him on his shoulders.

"Wow," said Russ, holding Jordan's hand and looking around. "I'm glad we have a full day here. What's first on that schedule of yours, Sarah?"

Two hours later they took a break for lunch. The wagon now held a few small stuffed animals, and two larger items: a giant dog in a red collar holding a martini glass (complete with stuffed olive) that Russ had won; and a big stuffed black bear that Booth had received. He'd told Tempe that he was going to put a stuffed human arm inside it, and she'd just rolled her eyes.

They were sitting at a large table under a tent, listening to loud oldies and eating extremely overpriced food. Parker and Abby, friends again, were covered in ketchup, mustard, and pickle relish, and Tempe was glad that she had a change of clothes for him in her backpack. She wished she'd brought something for herself.

"I still can't believe you did that," she told Russ, glaring at him.

"Oh, come on, Tempe," he said, laughing. "You looked hot. I just thought you needed some water to cool you off."

"For your information," she began, waving a forkful of fried okra at him, "I was perfectly fine. And I'll get you for that, Russell." He just grinned, unrepentant, and she narrowed her eyes. He'd get it, all right, she promised herself. She didn't know when, and she didn't know how, but she would have her revenge.

It had been one of those stupid midway games. Shoot a stream of water from a gun into a target, blow up a balloon before everyone else, win a prize. The stuffed animals had been cheap and ugly, but Russ had challenged her, so she'd agreed to play the game. She'd been winning, too, when he'd suddenly turned the water gun on her.

It wouldn't have been such a big deal if she hadn't been wearing a white shirt.

She knew Booth appreciated the view; he'd told her so, whispering it into her ear and secretly squeezing her ass during the juggling act. The shirt was dry now, but she was still a little irritated with her big brother.

Abby and Parker had finished their hot dogs and were now playing some sort of game, running after each other and screaming. "I think it's med time," Sarah muttered to Russ, digging through her backpack and pulling out a change of clothes and a small orange pill bottle.

"Med time?" Tempe murmured to Russ as Sarah and Abby headed towards the restrooms.

"Abby has ADHD," he told her quietly. "She's on Focalin right now, which calms her down and helps her make better decisions. We've been through a couple of different things in the past year, trying to find one that really works, and so far this seems to be it."

Tempe nodded in understanding. A quick glance at Parker revealed that he was now coated in soda, ketchup, and dirt, and she reached for her own backpack to retrieve his clean clothes. She handed them to Booth and watched as they walked off, studying the appearance of her partner's ass in jeans and appreciating the view.

Russ was smirking when she turned back, and she rolled her eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking. She opened her mouth to say something – she wasn't sure what – but Jordan beat her to it.

"Russ?"

"Yeah, kiddo?" He turned to smile at her, and Tempe let her breath out, relieved. No interrogations now.

"Can I have two dollars please?" She fluttered her lashes at him and grinned, obviously knowing it would get him to agree. It had to be her version of a 'charm smile,' Tempe thought, leading her to wonder what Abby's was.

Jordan and Abby were near opposites, both in temperament and looks. Where Abby had blond curls, big blue eyes, and boundless energy, Jordan had dark curls, the same big blue eyes, and a calm, quiet demeanor. She'd spent the entire drive from the hotel to the Jeffersonian reading. She was, Tempe reflected, very much a younger version of herself with better social skills.

"What do you want two bucks for?" Russ asked her now, raising an eyebrow.

"They have little carved turtles over there, and I wanted one. Please, Russ?" She fluttered her lashes again, and he rolled his eyes and succumbed.

"Sure, kiddo." He pulled a few dollars out of his wallet. "Pick one out and come right back, okay?"

She agreed, and they watched her walk over to the booth and examine the merchandise. "She has a turtle collection," Russ explained. "She absolutely loves them. She wants one as a pet, but Sarah hates reptiles in any form."

Tempe watched Jordan ask the woman in charge of the booth a question, and grinned at Russ. "You remember our first pet?"

"Oh man! Lilly the evil cat!" He laughed. "Evil only to people who weren't in the family, of course."

She laughed with him. "When we went away for Thanksgiving that one year, and out neighbor had to put on his hockey gear to feed her safely? That was great."

"What's so funny?" Booth asked, sitting back down next to her and handing her Parker's dirty clothes, tied up in a plastic bag. Parker himself sat on Tempe's other side and leaned against her, and she wrapped her arm around him.

"We were just talking about this cat we used to have. Her name was Lilly, and she was absolutely evil." Russ smiled as Jordan walked back up, a small paper bag in her hand. "Which one did you get?"

She opened the bag and showed him. "The lady said it was made of bone, but I'm not sure." She handed it to Tempe. "You can tell, right?"

"Sure." The turtle was about two inches long, and white, with the carved details blackened in. It certainly felt like bone, Tempe thought, and it weighed about the right amount, though without knowing what animal it came from, she couldn't be positive. She handed it back to Jordan. "I believe it's bone, but I wouldn't know for sure without testing."

"Okay," the girl replied, accepting this. "Cool, thanks."

"You're welcome." Jordan pocketed the turtle and threw the bag in the trash as Sarah and Abby reappeared. The little girl was asleep, and Sarah passed her off to Russ.

"The magic show starts in about half an hour," she said, putting Abby's clothes into her backpack. "Should we start heading over? These two," and she nodded at Abby and Parker, who had dozed off against Tempe, "can take a nap while we wait, and we can get good seats."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Booth said, standing and scooping Parker into his arms. They threw away the remaining trash and headed out.

"Hey sweetie!" Angela exclaimed, hugging Tempe. "Having a good day?"

"For the most part," she replied, glaring at Russ and squeezing Angela back before letting go to make introductions. Abby and Parker were now wide-awake, having a nap, a magic show, and cotton candy in their systems. They greeted Angela, Hodgins, and Zack enthusiastically. Jordan smiled and gave them a quiet hello, and Sarah grinned and said she was pleased to finally meet everybody.

The group headed back over to the midway, where the guys were eager to pit their skills against one another. Russ claimed that he had the advantage because he'd worked at a carnival and knew all the secrets, but the others disagreed.

"Booth was a sniper and Zack's a genius with physics and stuff," Hodgins argued.

"What about you?" Countered Russ with a grin. "What've you got?"

Hodgins grinned back, not at all insulted. "I have money, my friend. I'm bound to win something eventually." Angela rolled her eyes at Sarah and Tempe.

"Have they been like this all day?"

"Oh yeah," said Sarah. "They called a truce, though, after they both won big prizes." She gestured to the wagon, and Angela laughed.

"The alpha males bringing home the bacon," Tempe said with a grin, glad that she could share in a joke for once.

The guys stopped at a booth filled with balloons and cheap, ugly stuffed animals. About one-third of the balloons had been popped, and brightly colored strips littered the ground inside. From the signs posted, Tempe gathered that one had three darts and therefore three chances to pop a balloon and win a prize. The guys began discussing the best ways to throw the darts, and the girls drifted to the next booth to look at the jewelry.

They reconnected ten minutes and two stalls later. Parker had another small stuffed fish, and Zack was carrying … _something_. It was small, black, and stuffed, wore a red cape and a diaper, and had two eyes on stalks.

"What is that?" Tempe asked him, and he grinned.

"Nibbler."

"Oh," she replied. She'd make Booth or Angela explain later.

Russ and Hodgins hadn't won anything, and they proceeded to bicker about it for the next ten minutes, until they found the same water-gun game that had soaked Tempe earlier. Some sort of challenge was issued, and Sarah and Angela were both rolling their eyes, but Tempe hardly noticed.

Booth had snuck up behind her and was now running his fingertips under her shirt and along her spine, his actions hidden by their bodies. "Think you can come up with an excuse to be alone with me for fifteen minutes?"

She watched Russ and Hodgins pay the man in charge and choose their guns. "I thought we said we'd go slow," she murmured.

"I just want to kiss you," he whispered in her ear, and she was glad that everyone was distracted. Angela and Russ would have noticed her small shiver.

"I can think of something," she said softly, and she could tell he was grinning.

"You're so smart."

Hodgins and Russ tied five times before calling it a draw, and when the group began to walk again, Tempe asked Sarah if she'd mind watching Parker for a couple of minutes.

"Why?" she asked. "I mean, I will, of course, but why? Where are you and Booth going?" She grinned suggestively.

Tempe rolled her eyes. "It's nothing like that, Sarah. Angela's birthday is next week, and we're getting her a present from one of the craft booths. We just need fifteen minutes to go pick it out, that's all."

Sarah looked disappointed but agreed to watch Parker, and they began to walk away.

"Where are you two going, all by yourselves?" Angela called after her.

"To get you a birthday present, Ange," Tempe replied, turning around and grinning.

"You're just now picking out my present?"

"Well, maybe you're getting two," she said. Angela loved presents, and she knew that would distract her best friend.

But not as much as she'd hoped. "You know what would be a great present?" Angela asked, waggling her eyebrows. "You two –"

"Little kids," Sarah warned her. "You're being edited for content, Ange." She waved. "Have fun shopping!" She turned back to say something to Angela, and Russ added to it, but they were already turning away.

There was something going on there, Tempe thought, but she didn't have time to mull it over. The second they were completely out of sight, Booth grabbed her hand.

"We need to get farther away and find a spot to hide," he told her, and she felt a thrill of excitement. Secret make-out sessions with Booth – yum!

They finally found a spot, hidden between a booth selling t-shirts and a vendor with deep-fried Twinkies. Next thing she knew, she was pressed against a wall and his mouth was on hers, and she forgot about the squints and her brother and Angela's upcoming birthday. Instead, she focused on Booth, on his mouth and his scent, curiously mixed with that of sugar, and the feeling of his hands on her waist.

She was lost, she was gone, and then reality slammed home.

"Crap," she muttered against his mouth, and pushed him away.

"Wha-what? Bones?"

"Zack," she said, looking for her grad student. She'd seen him out of the corner of her eye, and she knew that they had to catch him fast. Otherwise, she knew he'd tell Angela, and she wasn't ready for this relationship to be public, not yet.

"What?" he said again, and she hurried to explain, heading out of the little 'alley' and nearly running down the main road. He caught up quickly. "Bones, slow down. We need to formulate a plan."

"What?" she asked, stopping and facing him.

"You've got Sarah's schedule in your pocket, right? Just look at that to see where they should be, and we can figure out the quickest way to intercept him."

It was a good idea, she had to admit; at least in theory. But the schedule was only tentative, and they could be anywhere. Still, she pulled the paper out and studied it. "Midway," she said finally, "they should still be at the midway. Especially if Russ and Hodgins are still competing."

"Then that's where we'll go," Booth said. "We'll catch him, Bones, don't worry."

And strangely enough, she didn't.

Zack hurried along the midway, searching for Angela, Hodgins, Russ, anyone but Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth. He still couldn't believe what he'd seen – his mentor and her partner, making out like teenagers. What had started out as an innocent trip to the bathroom was turning into a reconnaissance mission.

He couldn't wait to tell Angela. By the looks of things, they'd more than achieved their first goal. He continued on his way, hoping that they'd be nearby –

And then he was flat against a wall, one hand covering his mouth, the other pinning him. "Don't scream, kid, we're not going to hurt you."

He opened his eyes and saw Agent Booth, with Dr. Brennan right behind him, big blue eyes filled with worry. Agent Booth released him and stepped to the side, blocking his only way of escape. Not that he would even try; he knew what Dr. Brennan could do to a guy, never mind what the two of them could do together.

"You saw, didn't you?" she said now, and there was no way he could lie, not to her.

"Yes," he mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

"Crap," she muttered, looking at Agent Booth. Something passed between them, some silent communication, and then she turned back to him.

"You can't tell anyone, Zack. And I mean no one, not Angela or Hodgins or your family."

"What?" he asked, confused. "Why not? This is a good thing, right?"

Again that look, that silent communication.

"Maybe," she said, looking unsure, which was somehow scarier than facing a menacing Agent Booth. She wasn't ever supposed to be unsure; she was Dr. Temperance Brennan, renowned forensic anthropologist and his mentor. "I think so. The thing is, Zack, we're working on it, on this. But it needs to stay a secret."

His neurons weren't firing correctly, because he didn't understand. But he respected her, and he could respect her wishes to keep quiet. Angela would hate him for it when she found out, but –

"Wait a minute – Angela doesn't know about you two, does she?" Because if she knew, and she was leading them to believe otherwise as some sort of joke, he and Hodgins would … well, they'd do something evil.

"Nobody knows. Why?"

"Um, no reason," he said, but he was terrible at lying, and he knew she could see right through him.

"Uh huh." She just looked at him, and waited, and he finally couldn't stand the silence and looked at her eyes. Big mistake.

"There may be a conspiracy to get you two together," he muttered, glancing away. But once he started, he couldn't stop. "Angela and Russ started it, and Sarah and Hodgins and I are in on the whole deal."

"What?" said Agent Booth, looking both annoyed and amused.

But Dr. Brennan had that look on her face, the one that she usually got before she came up with some brilliant explanation or idea. "That explains the way she's been acting, and Russ too," she said, almost to herself. "Did you guys have something planned for today?"

"Actually, the plan was to have you two kiss before the end of June. We thought we'd failed, and then I came up with the idea of, um, losing you here."

"Losing us?" asked Agent Booth, and now the amusement was definitely winning.

"You know, just kind of 'accidentally' walking away, giving you two some time alone. Just to see if that, um, jump-started things, so to speak." He shuffled his feet and wondered how long they would be here. The others would be wondering where he'd gone, and he didn't want to spill the entire plan.

Dr. Brennan looked thoughtful. "So we know they have a plan, and we know what the plan entails …" This time, Zack kept his mouth shut. She gave him and Agent Booth an absolutely evil smile. "We could get revenge for plotting against us."

"Or for us, really," Agent Booth corrected her, and she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, Booth. But this still gives us a chance to, uh …"

"Mess with them?" Zack suggested, and immediately regretted it.

Dr. Brennan grinned. "Exactly! We can mess with them, just like they're trying to do with us!"

Zack was still skeptical, but Agent Booth was nodding. "It could be fun. And we'd really show them, huh?"

She turned the grin on him, and he was powerless to resist. "What do you say, Zack?"

Despite his misgivings, and his complete inability to lie, he found himself agreeing to keep their secrets, and plot against the plotters.

They began to walk away, and while Agent Booth was in the main road, waiting for them and pretending to browse, Dr. Brennan leaned over.

"Thank you, Zack. You have no idea how much this means."

Thing was, he did have some idea, and that was the only reason he agreed to keep quiet. But he didn't tell her this; he just smiled and told her it was no problem.

He watched as she caught up with Agent Booth, giving his hand a squeeze before dropping it and taking one step to the side.

He'd keep quiet for as long as they wanted.

Purple and green fireworks lit up the sky, and Tempe secretly held Booth's hand as everyone watched the light show. Parker was cuddled between them; Russ was on her other side, a half-asleep Abby in his lap. Surrounded by her family, Tempe felt surprisingly at ease, and it was the first holiday in years that she could remember actually enjoying.

More fireworks were launched, and she watched them explode in brilliant colors, feeling Booth's fingers trailing up and down her forearm. Between him and the chill in the air, she was covered in goose bumps, and when he offered her his hooded FBI sweatshirt, she gladly took it, snuggling deep inside. It smelled like him, a wonderful combination of man and sweat and something else, something she couldn't identify.

The show continued, and she found her head resting on his shoulder, her hand back in his. It was comfortable and cozy, and she knew without a doubt that regardless of how this relationship would end, she was already too far-gone to stop it now.

She glanced to the side and found Zack studying her. She smiled at him, pleased that he was keeping the secret, and that he seemed to understand how important it was. He'd excel at whatever he ended up doing, she was sure of that.

He smiled back, and winked, and turned to watch the fireworks. She did the same, laying her head back down on Booth's shoulder. They could plot against Angela and Russ tomorrow, and worry about their relationship later. For now, she would enjoy the company of the people she loved.

It was the best holiday ever.

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are always appreciated, and this time, flames will be converted directly into gas, no middleman money involved.

A/N#2: Again, this will be the last update for at least a week. Real life intervenes, and I'll be moving tomorrow and searching for a job. Thanks for all your reviews and good wishes – they are extremely appreciated.

A/N#3: I thought I'd leave you with an idea of what's happening in Chapter Ten: There are more cute kids, some plotting (on both sides) and a major fight between … yeah, I won't tell you that. See y'all in a week!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Bones.

A/N: I know that the Wong Foo/Sid's set has been destroyed, but this story has turned into an AU as of the season premiere, so the restaurant has been resurrected. Enjoy!

A/N#2: Also, an apology to everyone who reviewed and received a very late response. RL has a way of distracting me … although fic does that, too. Again, apologies to all, and thanks for the wonderful reviews.

A/N#3: It's been way too long since I last updated, and while I feel bad about that, to be fair, I did warn everyone. In the past month, I've moved, found and started a new job, and been sick. But I'm making it my goal to update every Sunday night, so in the future, there will be a new chapter up every week, barring natural disasters, illness, etc. Thanks to everyone for the encouragement, especially Fireflycvx, Siapom, and Miss1nformation, and thanks to everyone who wished me luck with the move and the job-hunt.

**Chapter Ten: Elaborate Lives**

_July Sixth_

"What are you doing Saturday?" Booth asked, sitting in their usual spot at their usual place – namely, Sid's.

She thought for a moment, swallowed her sweet and sour pork, and said, "nothing. Why? You want to go bowling?" She grinned, and he grinned back.

"No, Parker's got a soccer game at nine, and I wondered if you wanted to come and cheer him on." He reached over and stole some of her pineapple, and she let him. It was a couples thing, after all, and they were turning into a couple. She didn't really like the fruit, anyway.

It would be fun to go and watch Parker. She knew he played; Booth had told her and described some of his games, which sounded hilarious. Little boys who missed the ball half the time and scored in the wrong goal the rest – she couldn't think of a better way to spend her Saturday morning.

Well, she could, but she'd rather spend it with Booth and Parker.

"And hey," he added, apparently hoping to sweeten the deal, "in between cheering him on, we can plot against the squints. How does that sound?"

She laughed. "Sounds great, Booth. Do you want to pick me up Saturday morning or meet me there?"

He thought about it. "I'll pick you up, but it'll be early. We have to be there at least half an hour before the game starts, for warm-ups and stuff."

"That's fine," Tempe assured him. She certainly wasn't a stranger to early mornings.

"And then Saturday night," he began, sounding less confident, "I was thinking that maybe I could get Parker's regular babysitter, and we could have dinner."

"Like a date?" she asked.

He grinned. "Yeah, like a date. Where you dress up and we go to a fancy restaurant – no offense, Sid – and, you know," he waggled his eyebrows at her, "plot some more against the squints."

She laughed. "Sounds like fun, Booth."

"So that's a yes?"

"That's a yes."

He grinned at her, looking like a happy little puppy, then glanced around. Obviously, he didn't see anything suspicious, because he leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. She was blushing when he pulled away, and she wondered: was it supposed to be like this?

Sid interrupted the moment with the check and a wink, and Booth grabbed it first and paid, ignoring her protests. He ushered her out of the restaurant with one hand on her hip and the other on her shoulder, and the next thing she knew, she'd been shuffled into the SUV and they were on their way back to the Jeffersonian.

He dropped her off out front, declining to come in – something about an important budget meeting.

"So, Saturday morning?" she said, leaning against his door and talking through the rolled-down window.

"And Saturday night," he replied, his voice full of promise, his eyes going dark with passion. He glanced around, then leaned down to give her another kiss, one of the ones that went straight to her toes.

"Bye Bones," he murmured against her lips, and he was gone.

Tempe stood there for a minute, eyes closed, goofy smile on her face, then shook herself. With one more glance around to make sure that no one had been watching, she straightened her shoulders and headed in to work.

* * *

Zack watched as Dr. Brennan swiped her badge and came onto the platform, noticing something different and wondering if he was the only one. Sure, he had inside information, and maybe that was why he could tell, but Angela was smart and observant – could she tell too?

Not that it was anything tangible, something definite that he could point to and say 'that's what's different, that thing, there.' Rather, it was just an impression; maybe the way she held herself, maybe the barely-there smile that graced her lips.

Or maybe it was the wink she tossed in his direction.

He just had time to wink back before she was there and asking questions, and he and Hodgins jumped to answer them. As they argued over the evidence, Zack had time to reflect. It was nice to know that Dr. Brennan could have a personal relationship with someone she worked with and still do her job. He just hoped nothing ever jeopardized it.

* * *

The happy sounds of children permeated the Saturday afternoon atmosphere of Pizza Hut, and Tempe watched from the sidelines with an anthropologist's eye, observing the rituals she'd never expected to be a part of. Parents rewarding their children for a job well done by giving them food, parents praising their children to boost their fragile egos and assure them that losing a game was not the end of the world, but rather a fact of life. There were always winners and losers; sometimes you were on top of the world, and sometimes you weren't.

Not that she hadn't done some ego-boosting of her own, of course.

Parker seemed to take it all in stride, as did most of the little boys he played with. Obviously, this wasn't the first game they'd lost, and Booth had set his kid straight on good sportsmanship – something she was proud of. Parker had gamely given high fives to the kids on the other team before heading back to them with tears in his eyes. He seemed to have gotten over it, though; she'd given him all of her quarters, and he was beating most of the other boys in the video game corner.

"That kid is so cute," said a voice behind her, and Tempe turned to see a woman who'd been introduced as – _Martha? Mary? Something like that._ She was smiling and nodding towards Parker. "And he's one of the best forwards we have, when he's not –"

"Kicking the ball in the wrong direction?" Tempe smiled, and the woman laughed.

"Exactly. Not that my Jayden's any better, of course, but right now it's all about the fun of the game, of playing with kids his own age. My ex-husband Jacob and I try not to put any pressure on him to win; there'll be enough of that when he gets older."

Tempe nodded as if she understood, and the woman – _Marietta?_ – continued talking.

"Your boy is adorable, though. And his father's not too bad either." She winked at Tempe. "Nice job there."

Mildly horrified at her forwardness, Tempe focused on her first remark. "Actually, Parker's not my son. And Booth – Seeley – is not my husband."

"Oh," the woman replied, eyes narrowing. "_Oh._" She gave Tempe a wicked grin. "If you'll excuse me." She sauntered over to Booth, hips swaying, and Tempe was pretty sure that she was batting her eyes as well.

The woman proceeded to interrupt the conversation between Booth and the coach (something about schedules and rehearsals), leaning towards them, her manner all flirty, and Tempe felt herself bristle. Regardless of how secret their relationship was, Booth belonged to her, and that woman – _Maggie!_ – had no right to him whatsoever.

She was about to march over and give Maggie a piece of her mind when Booth looked up and winked in her direction. She felt herself calm down, because even though Maggie was trying her hardest, Booth was still only giving her a polite smile, no charm or anything.

Moreover, Tempe was the one going out to dinner with him. Poor Maggie never really had a chance.

She watched the woman's frustration mount with secret amusement, and when Booth finally finished discussing whatever with the coach, he turned and headed back to her without a word to Maggie.

She would have felt some sort of sympathy, but Booth's arm went around her waist and his lips landed solidly on hers, and she wasn't feeling anything but joy.

He pulled away after a moment, and she caught her breath and glimpsed a very pissed-off Maggie heading out the door, bewildered child in tow. "Was that a caveman display, Booth?"

He grinned. "You know it, Bones. She just wasn't taking no for an answer."

She chuckled, secretly pleased, and not quite sure why, though she did have some idea. "So, dinner tonight?"

"Yeah. The babysitter will be over around six-thirty, so I'll pick you up at seven. And I made reservations at _Antonio's_. I hope that's okay?" And he suddenly looked nervous, which made no sense whatsoever, and made her nervous.

She gave him a smile though, and mentally started planning her outfit.

* * *

The phone rang halfway through her mental checklist. Distractedly, she picked it up and hit the talk button.

"Marco!"

Still thinking about what she might need for the night, her reaction was automatic.

"Polo." She moved into the bathroom, checking her makeup and putting her toothbrush, face wash, and moisturizer into her overnight bag, not even really registering who was on the other end of the phone.

"Tempe?" Her name and the voice of her older brother brought her attention to the conversation, and she blushed, though she knew that Russ couldn't read her mind or tell what she'd been doing.

"Hey, Russ." She moved into the kitchen and began absently cleaning. "What's up?"

"I need a favor." He sounded oddly nervous, and she wondered why. She'd do almost anything for him, and he surely knew it.

"Okay," she replied.

He let out a breath. "Um, not this Saturday, but next Saturday, is Sarah's birthday. We're driving up to Vermont, to this bed-n-breakfast, and we were wondering …"

"Yes?" She had an idea of where this was going.

"Will you take the girls for that weekend?"

She thought about it. She liked Abby and Jordan, and she knew they liked her. And she could probably arrange something with Booth and Parker. But could she really spend an entire weekend in charge of them?

_You're thirty years old, Brennan,_ she scolded herself. _They're five and eight. You're responsible, and they like you. You can take care of them for a weekend._

"Sure," she finally said to Russ. "I'll take them. We'll go to the zoo or something, maybe hang out with Booth and Parker."

"Oh, good. Thanks, Tempe." He sounded relieved, but still nervous, and she knew there was something more.

"Russ …" she prompted. "C'mon, spill." And she sounded way too much like Angela for her own good.

"I'm gonna propose that weekend," he said quietly.

_Got results, though,_ she thought, suppressing a shriek of excitement. "That's so great, Russ!" she said, happy that her brother had found someone, and glad that someone was Sarah.

"Yeah, well," he said, but she knew he was grinning. "I just hope she says yes."

"Of course she will, you idiot," she said fondly. "Why would you think otherwise?"

He didn't say anything , but she could hear him thinking. "I'm not Sam."

"No," she said softly, "you're not Sam. And Sarah knows that, and she loves you for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She didn't say anything more, because the conversation was getting too emotional for her taste.

"Well," he said, obviously feeling the same way, "I'll let you go. I'll call sometime in the next week or so with the details, and I'll email you a picture of the ring. So you can show Angela, of course."

"Of course." She glanced at the clock. Five to seven – Booth would be here soon. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Tempe. And thanks."

"Bye," she replied, and hung up just as Booth knocked on her door. She opened it with a grin.

"Hey."

"Hey." He leaned down and kissed her, and she could feel her toes curling against the carpet. He pulled away after a moment. "Almost ready to go?"

"Yeah. Come on in – I just need to get my shoes and my purse."

"And your overnight bag," he said, and she froze.

"Booth …"

"Bones, we talked about this. You are under absolutely no obligation to spend the night just because we're together. The bag is not a promise or anything. It's just there as a maybe, or a just-in-case thing. And spending the night doesn't mean we're having sex. Okay?"

He'd moved to stand behind her and was gently stroking her back, and despite her worries, she felt the tension melt away. They _had_ talked about it, standing on the sidelines during Parker's game, and it _had_ seemed logical then. But now … now it was a terrifying symbol of their relationship, of how far they had come and how far they could go.

"You're right," she said, letting out a deep breath. He smiled. "You're right. I was just …"

"Freaking? It's okay, Bones. You're allowed to do that. Just remember that it's me you're with, and know that I am always willing to talk things through, help you figure 'us' out, whatever."

"Give me space?" She couldn't help asking, and despite the flash of hurt in his eyes, he nodded.

"If that's what you want."

"It's not," she reassured him. "At least, not right now." She reached up and kissed him gently. "But I appreciate it, Booth. Just let me grab my shoes and my stuff and we'll go."

She headed into the bedroom, knowing that whatever else happened, things between them would always work out.

* * *

"Russ is going to propose to Sarah," she told him later that night. He was curled up behind her, his hand tracing circles on her stomach, hidden beneath her camisole.

"He is?" He murmured into her hair. "When?"

"Not this weekend, but the next. He's taking her to Vermont for her birthday. The girls are staying with me."

"Oh, that'll be fun," he said. "I have Parker that weekend, you know."

"I know. I was thinking that we could all go to the zoo or something."

"Parker loves the zoo," he told her, pushing her camisole up a little further, tickling her ribs. "I'll talk to Rebecca, make sure she hasn't already planned to take him next weekend."

"M'kay." She snuggled farther back into him, and his hand tightened around her waist. She was almost asleep when he said something else. "Mmm?"

"I said, I thought of a plan," he repeated.

That woke her up. "Really? What?"

"Well, maybe if we …"

* * *

"I cannot believe you would say something like that!"

It was loud, it was angry, and what scared Zack most of all was that it was coming from Dr. Brennan. He'd seen her angry before, and it wasn't pretty. She tended to direct her anger towards the first person she saw, and he was grateful that Agent Booth seemed to be her target.

Then he thought about what a fight could do to their budding romantic relationship, and wondered how to turn that anger towards someone else – preferably Hodgins.

"What? It's the truth, Bones, and you know it!" Agent Booth looked equally pissed, and Zack wondered what had started this particular fight. Sure, they argued all the time, but this sounded much worse.

They took the catwalk to her office, yelling the whole way, and Agent Booth slammed the door behind them. Though their shouting was muffled, he could still make out a few words.

"What's going on?" Angela asked, coming up behind him, Hodgins behind her.

"Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth are fighting," Zack told her, watching as her shoulders slumped in disappointment. As far as Angela knew, this was just another block to their ultimate goal.

"What's wrong?" Hodgins said. "They do that all the time."

"They argue all the time," Zack corrected him. "This is a fight. And she looked really angry."

"What was – is – it about?" Angela bit her lip and looked worried, and Zack didn't blame her. They'd get over the fight, but sometimes mean words had a way of changing a relationship.

"I don't know. And we can't hear much from here."

Hodgins was snapping the rubber band around his wrist. "We could move closer and maybe find out," he suggested.

Angela rolled her eyes. "Or they could actually be winding down."

Indeed, the shouting was decreasing, both in decibel and amount. But Dr. Brennan was pale and tight-lipped, and appeared to be speaking very slowly. Zack knew she'd gone beyond angry and was deep into the realm of very very pissed. She finished speaking, and Agent Booth just turned and walked away.

"Hide," Angela whispered behind him, and they all took her advice and scattered.

_What_, Zack wondered as he disappeared downstairs, heading to 'Limbo,' _will this do to their relationship?_

Tentatively, he knocked on her door. Sure, her fight had been with Booth, but if she was still mad, he didn't want to anger her further.

"Come in," she said, and she still sounded pissed. He took a deep breath and opened the door.

She looked annoyed, and she was signing papers with irritation, but when she glanced up and noticed him, she smiled.

"Come on in and shut the door, Zack," she said, and suddenly she didn't sound angry at all. He did as she said and sat down in one of the chairs in front of her desk. Her hair was still a little frizzed, but otherwise, she looked like her usual self – and not at all like she'd had a huge fight with Agent Booth only an hour earlier.

Dr. Brennan either read his face or his mind, because she grinned. "Nasty fight, huh?"

It hit him. "That was staged?" It seemed so obvious, now. What better way to throw off suspicion? If Angela and Hodgins thought that Dr. Brennan and Agent Booth were angry with each other, they wouldn't notice their actual relationship.

"Well, sort of staged," she admitted. "The actual words weren't planned out or anything." She frowned, and Zack wondered if maybe the 'actual words' would cause an actual problem. You couldn't really pull angry words out of nowhere – they had to have some basis.

"Sorry we didn't let you know before," she continued, "but it would have ruined the effect. You don't exactly have a card face, Zack."

"Poker face," he corrected her, and blushed. She didn't look annoyed, though. Just thoughtful. "So there's nothing wrong with you and Agent Booth?"

She grinned. "There is nothing wrong with me and Agent Booth, Zack. But if Angela asks …"

"Huge fight, never talking to the bastard again?" She nodded.

"Exactly." She stared at the paperwork in front of her for a minute, and again Zack wondered about the 'actual words.' She started to fill out some forms, and Zack took that as his cue to leave.

She stopped him at the door. "Thank you, Zack. "

He just smiled and winked.

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated, and flames will be used to heat my bedroom, because I can't figure out how to light the furnace. What pilot light? What valve?


	11. Chapter 11

Discalimer: I own nothing related to Bones.

A/N: So, it's been awhile. Hello to everyone! Sorry about the wait between chapters, but it was necessary for my sanity. And now I'm hoping to update every week. I know I've said that before, but this time it'll actually happen. Again, sorry about the (really really) long wait.

A/N2: To everyone who reviewed Chapter Ten and did not receive a reply - I'm sorry. I promise to reply to all reviews for this chapter.

A/N3: You may want to reread Chapter Ten, as it's been awhile.

**Chapter Eleven: Remember a Day**

_July Twentieth_

"Seriously?" Russ said. "You want to trade cars for the weekend?"

Tempe grinned at him. "You afraid I'm going to crash your precious minivan, Russ?"

He rolled his eyes.

"Think about it, Russ. I have a little two-seater sports car. There are three of us. You do the math."

"What about Booth?"

"What about Booth?" She knew Russ had heard about their 'fight,' probably from Angela. She and Booth were just barely acting civil towards each other in public, and while they'd agreed on a 'truce' for work and the kids, she wasn't sure how this weekend would go. Would they play it like they had been, or would the weekend be a time to develop their relationship while the kids were distracted?

Russ gave her a sympathetic look. "You'll make up, Tempe. I've seen the way you two gaze at one another – whatever he may have said, he didn't mean it."

She sighed. "You don't know that, Russ. Normally, when we fight, I know that he's just saying things to annoy me. But that last fight …" She sighed again. "I just don't know."

"Well, anyway," Russ said after a minute, "we'd love to borrow your car, Tempe. Thanks." He gave her a grin. "Enjoy being a soccer mom for the weekend."

"I don't know what that means," she said, and he laughed.

A knock signaled that Sarah was back with the girls. Tempe opened the door and Jordan barreled in, carrying a shopping bag that appeared to contain at least two different flavors of ice cream. Sarah came in behind her, loaded down with plastic bags containing more sugar than Tempe normally consumed in a month.

Abby lagged after them, carrying a small yellow blanket and a stuffed frog. "Hi Tempe," she said unenthusiastically, giving her a small hug before curling up on the couch.

Tempe turned to Sarah with a concerned frown. Sarah shrugged. "She's been like that all morning. She doesn't have a cough or a sore throat or a fever, and she says she's feeling fine. We think it's just the prospect of a weekend without us that's bumming her out."

"Her get-up-and-go got-up-and-went," Russ said, sticking the ice cream in the freezer and lining up the bags of candy. "My God, Sarah, you're going to give them cavities. Ooh, Twizzlers!"

Tempe and Sarah rolled their eyes at each other. "We got those for you, Russ, for the drive. The granola bars are mine." She turned back to Tempe. "Well, I think that's everything."

Tempe nodded, ignoring the strange feeling of apprehension in her gut. "We just need to trade car keys."

"Oh, okay," Sarah replied, digging them out of her purse. She pulled one off the key ring and handed it over. Tempe did the same.

"Your key ring creeps me out," Russ said, taking the key and remote. "Seriously, Tempe – who walks around with a skull attached to their keys?"

"It's not real," she said. "And it's not very accurate, either. But Angela gave him to me, and his name is Fred."

Russ just stared at her, then shook his head. "Have fun this weekend. And don't hesitate to call if something goes wrong."

"I won't," she promised, and the feeling in her gut got stronger.

Russ and Sarah said goodbye to the girls and left, and for the first time in her life, Temperance Brennan was faced with the prospect of entertaining two kids for four and a half days, mostly by herself.

She hoped she was up to the challenge.

* * *

Tempe woke up suddenly, cuddled between two warm bodies, and it took a minute before she remembered Abby and Jordan snuggling in sometime around two a.m.

Jordan was lying on her back, her arms crossed behind her head, a frown of deep concentration (the same one Sarah had, Tempe noted) on her brow. Abby was deeply asleep, curled on her side, her head burrowed into the crook of Tempe's neck. She basked for a moment in the warmth radiating from the little girl and thought back to the previous evening.

Abby had cheered up after her mother and Russ left, helping pick out movies. (Angela had loaned them her TV and DVD player for the weekend, thrilled that Russ was proposing to Sarah.) She'd only eaten one slice of the pizza they'd had delivered, and none of the candy, though she had downed almost two bowls of vanilla ice cream. She'd fallen asleep in Tempe's lap halfway through "The Emperor's New Groove," and she hadn't been quite her normal self all night, but she'd seemed all right. No fever, no sore throat, nothing.

She was warm, though. Too warm, almost.

Tempe rolled Abby away and sat up, reaching down to feel her forehead. While the little girl had seemed fine the night before, she now definitely had a fever.

Tempe hurried into the bathroom and dug through her first aid kit, knowing there was a thermometer buried in there somewhere. She finally located it beneath a roll of gauze and headed back to the bedroom.

Jordan was now awake and sitting up, but Abby was still asleep. "What's wrong with Abby, Tempe?"

"I don't know, sweetheart, but we'll find out," Tempe replied, sliding the cover on the thermometer and sticking it gently into Abby's ear. The little girl stirred but didn't wake up, and Tempe knew there was something very wrong.

A few agonizing moments later, the thermometer beeped, and she checked, apprehensive.

101°.

This was not good.

She debated between calling Booth and looking up information on her laptop. The laptop quickly won, and she retrieved it before settling back down next to the girls. She booted it up, grateful for its super fast capabilities and wireless internet connection.

A couple of minutes more, and she was plugging Abby's few symptoms into a search engine. Too many possibilities came up, and Tempe and Jordan read through them with wide eyes. "What do you think she has?" the little girl asked.

Tempe shook her head. "I don't know." She glanced down at Abby, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully, at least. "It could just be a cold." But she didn't think so, and judging by the look on Jordan's face, neither did she. Unfortunately, at this point in time, it seemed as though all they could do was wait for more symptoms to appear.

Time to call Booth.

* * *

"How's she doing?" Booth asked, cradling the phone between his head and shoulder as he washed veggies. "Any change?"

"She woke up about an hour ago, but she still has a fever, and she's just been lying on the couch."

"How does she feel?" He finished cleaning the vegetables and laid them on a paper towel to dry.

"She says her tummy hurts a little, but that's it. Her head doesn't hurt and she doesn't feel sick or anything. Just warm and tired."

Bones' worry about Abby almost distracted him from the weirdness of hearing his partner use the word 'tummy.' Almost. "And she hasn't thrown up or anything?"

"Nope. She drank a little water, though. I just …" she sighed, and he could picture the look on her face as she watched the girls. "I don't know if I should call Russ and Sarah or not. I hate to ruin their weekend if it turns out to not be serious."

"'Cause Russ is gonna propose to Mom?" He could barely hear Jordan's question.

"What? How do you know about that?"

"Russ told me. I can keep a secret, you know."

"Huh," Bones said, and he grinned and began chopping carrots. "Anyway, I also called the pediatrician Sarah has listed, but he was in the middle of a staff meeting, so it may be awhile before he calls back." She sighed again. "I just don't know what to do, Booth."

And he knew she hated that feeling of helplessness, of uncertainty. "Do you want me to come over?"

She hesitated. "Maybe a little later. I think I'll try the doctor again, see what he says."

"Okay. Good luck." He put the chopped carrots into his crock pot and set about cutting the potatoes. "If you still can't get a hold of him, though, call and I'll give you the number for Parker's pediatrician."

"Thanks, Booth." He hadn't really done much, but then, he didn't think she'd needed him to actually _do_ anything.

"Bye, Bones. Call me later, let me know how things are going. And call if anything changes."

"I will. Bye."

He set the phone on the counter and studied the crock pot. "I give her forty-five minutes before she calls again." He told the appliance. "Maybe an hour."

* * *

"Thank you, Dr. Robertson," Tempe said. "I'll call back in an hour, or if her condition changes. Okay. Bye." She set the phone back on the receiver and peered into the living room. Abby had dozed off again ten minutes into "Babe," and Jordan was half-watching the movie and half-watching her little sister.

The pediatrician hadn't been very helpful. He'd said that Abby probably had a cold, maybe a stomach flu, and to make sure she drank plenty of fluids. If her fever went up, or if she vomited, Tempe was supposed to call back and let him know, and get further instructions.

Privately, she thought the man was an idiot.

Giving the girls another quick glance, she picked the phone up again and pressed the appropriate speed dial buttons.

"I can be there in twenty minutes," Booth said.

"What, no hello?" she teased him, and she could hear him grin.

"Hi, Bones, I can be there in twenty minutes."

She gave a silent sigh of relief. "Make it thirty, and pick up some Sprite?"

"Will do," he replied.

True to his word, he arrived a half-hour later, three bottles of Sprite in his arms. Tempe took two of the bottles and let him in. "Hi. Thanks for coming over and bringing these."

"No problem," he told her. "Hey, Jordan. Hi, Abby. How're you feeling?"

Half-awake, the little girl shrugged.

He turned back to Tempe. "Weird."

She gave him half a smile. "Scary."

"Yeah, that too." She poured a glass of the pop and put the rest into the fridge. "Did you get a hold of the doctor?"

"Yeah." She told him what Dr. Robertson had told her, and Booth nodded.

"It makes sense." She glared. "Oh, come on, Bones. I may be playing devil's advocate here, but it could be just a simple cold."

"It could be. But what if it's something worse?" She knew he could see the fear in her eyes, but she made no effort to hide it. Maternal instinct for members of her pack was hard to deny.

"She'll be fine, Bones." He pulled her into a hug. "She'll be fine. Now let's go get some fluids into her."

* * *

Abby had dozed off again, cuddled in her lap, her head against Tempe's shoulder. Laying the back of her hand on the little girl's forehead, Tempe sighed. "I think her fever's gone up again."

Booth looked over at them. "Yeah?" She nodded. "Where's your thermometer?"

"Um, on my bed." She blushed. Even though it had been almost a week, and even though she'd washed her sheets twice, she still thought her bedroom smelled like sex.

He grinned, and she knew he knew what she was thinking. "I'll be right back," he promised, getting up.

Jordan, sitting on the other side of the couch, studied Tempe, a knowing look on her face. Tempe suddenly had the disturbing thought that the eight-year-old knew exactly what was going on between her and Booth.

Before she could say anything (not that she had any idea of what she would say,) Booth was back, and they quickly performed the temperature routine.

103°.

"What was it this morning?" he asked.

"101°," she replied, giving him a worried look.

Abby chose that moment to wake up. "My tummy hurts really bad," she mumbled into Tempe's shoulder.

"It does?" She sympathetically stroked the little girl's mussed blond curls. Abby nodded and made an odd noise in the back of her throat.

Instinct made her move fast, and the trashcan that had been sitting beside the couch made it in front of Abby just in the nick of time.

"Ew," Jordan said.

Experience with Angela had Tempe holding back Abby's hair and gently rubbing her back. She met Booth's concerned gaze. "We're going to the hospital."

"Ew," Jordan said again as Abby heaved some more.

"And the trashcan is coming with us," Tempe added.

Please read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated; flames will be converted into money which will then be used to pay for new glasses.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Sorry to anyone who hasn't yet received a response to their review for Chapter Eleven. I've had sporadic internet access this week, and I haven't yet had a chance. Thanks!

**Chapter Twelve: A Saucerful of Secrets**

_July Twenty-first_

"When I was seven," Tempe told Booth, shifting on the uncomfortable waiting room couch, "I had my tonsils and adenoids removed."

"Yeah? How was it?"

She gave him a look. "I was seven, Booth. All I remember is that Mom and Dad bought me a new teddy bear, and that I had to drink apple juice, and I hated apple juice."

"You still hate apple juice," he told her, grinning.

She smiled back. "The point, Booth, is that I've hated hospitals ever since."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Because they made you drink apple juice?"

She rolled her eyes, but knew that he was just trying to cheer her up, trying to distract her. "No, because I was so afraid of everything. The people, the strange equipment, the surgery itself … the smell. I'm better with them now, but the smell still gets to me." She squeezed his hand. "I hated being here after my fridge …" She cleared her throat. "But I came anyway, because of you. And now I'm here again, and they're not saying anything except 'we need to run more tests,' and they won't even let me her room because I'm not _family_, even though I have all those papers from Sarah, and … and …" She swallowed, hard, and looked at Booth. "She's in there all alone, and she must be terrified, Booth. I should be in there, comforting her and making sure she's okay, and instead I'm stuck in this waiting room."

Booth and Jordan said nothing, just letting her rant on.

"And neither Russ nor Sarah get service on the cell phones where they are, and who knows if the lady at the bed-n-breakfast will even give them the message ..."

She stood up, arms crossed over her chest, and began pacing. "She could be dying in there and they'd probably never tell us!"

"Bones!" Booth gestured towards a scared Jordan, who was staring at Tempe, her chin trembling.

"Is Abby really gonna die?"

Tempe was in front of her in an instant, hugging her tightly. "Of course not, Jordan," she said. "She probably just has the flu, and hospitals are always running tests just to be sure. She's fine, Jordan. Abby's fine."

Despite her certain tone and reassurances, she could tell Booth wasn't buying anything. She half-wished that he was whispering the same words to her, but she knew it wouldn't make a difference to Abby's outcome.

"Dr. Brennan?" a woman said from the doorway. She'd introduced herself earlier as Dr. Hendrickson, the on-call pediatrician. She seemed very nice and competent, but also very young.

Tempe stood up. "Yes?"

The doctor cleared her throat. "We've determined that Abby has appendicitis. We need to get her into surgery as soon as possible. Have you been able to get a hold of her parents?"

Tempe shook her head and held up her cell phone. "No, we still haven't heard from them."

The doctor frowned at the phone but didn't say anything. "Well. Our hospital lawyer has looked at all the papers they gave you and decided that you can sign all the relevant paperwork. If you could come with me …"

"Can we see her? Before the surgery, I mean."

"Of course. I can get a nurse to take your husband and Abby's sister to her room while we go over everything, then I'll bring you by after we're done."

"Thank you," Tempe said, grateful, and they headed out.

* * *

An hour later, they had gone over the paperwork and the procedure, and Tempe was certain that she could bring the surgery down to Abby's level of understanding. 

Dr. Hendrickson left her outside Abby's door, saying, "I'll be back in an hour and a half to make sure she's been prepped for the surgery."

Tempe peered inside the room. Jordan was sitting cross-legged on the bed across from her sister, telling some sort of joke, judging by the laughter on Abby's face. Booth was in the chair next to the bed, chuckling as he watched the girls. Deciding that they were fine for the moment, Tempe headed in the direction of the gift shop.

She returned a little later with a vase of daisies in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. Carefully, she knocked on and then opened the door, and smiled at Abby.

"Hey, sweetheart, how are you feeling?" She set the flowers down on a small table by the window and kissed Abby's cheek before sitting on Booth's lap.

"My tummy doesn't hurt as much," Abby told her, peering curiously at the flowers and then the bag. "What's in the bag, Tempe?"

"I'll show you in a minute. Listen, Abby, we need to talk about what's making you sick, okay?"

"Okay." Tempe explained (in very basic terms) about the appendix and the surgery, trying her hardest not to be too clinical or scare either little girl. She didn't quite succeed.

"They're going to cut me open?" Abby whimpered, and Tempe hastened to reassure her.

"No, not really, sweetheart," she said, not wanting to go into the differences between an invasive procedure and a laparoscopy. "They just stick a tube inside you and suck your appendix out."

"Like a vacuum?" Jordan asked, now looking more intrigued than scared.

"Exactly like that."

"And you know what, Abby?" Booth said, since the little girl still looked scared. "You get to have a really cool scar that you can show everyone when school starts."

"Ooh," Abby replied. "Scars are neat. Tempe showed us some of hers yesterday when we were watching _Harry Potter_."

"Yeah? What sort of scars does she have?" Booth asked Abby, and whispered in Tempe's ear, "Harry Potter?"

"We skipped past the scary parts," she whispered back defensively.

"Uh huh," he replied, turning back to Abby.

"… and she got the scar near her bellybutton from when she was juggling knives!"

"She juggles knives, huh?" Booth asked, and Abby nodded.

"She's not very good at it, though. And she says that's why you never play with knives, because you can get hurt and then you cry a lot."

"Well, she's right." Tempe grinned at his words.

"Of course she is," Abby said, giving him a look. "She's super-smart."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Tempe knew he was smirking, and only resisted the urge to poke him because one of his hands had slid up her shirt and was playfully stroking her back; the movement was hidden from the girls by her body.

"Anyway," she said, trying to ignore the sensations and bring them back to the surgery, "we're not allowed to go in with you –"

"Because of the germs?"

"Exactly right. So I brought someone who can." She reached into the bag on her lap and pulled out a soft, fluffy, dark brown teddy bear, complete with a red plaid ribbon around its neck. It looked just like the one she'd gotten from her parents years ago, and she hoped it'd bring Abby the same comfort.

"Ooh," Abby said, taking the bear. "He's soft."

"Are you going to name him?" asked Jordan, reaching out to pet him.

Abby thought for a minute, then, "yes. And his name is Fuzz-butt."

_Surgery or not, Abby is going to be just fine_, Tempe thought, smiling.

* * *

Jordan looked up from her macaroni-and-cheese. "Are you mad at Agent Booth, Tempe?" 

Tempe paused, a bite of grilled chicken halfway to her mouth. "What makes you say that?"

Jordan shrugged. "Russ said you had a fight. But you don't act like Mommy and Russ do when they argue."

"Yeah? How do your Mommy and Russ act?"

Jordan took a bite of her dinner. "Russ goes out to the garage and works on his old car. And Mommy cleans a lot. And they don't talk much to each other, and they sound angry when they do." She took a sip of her milk. "And one time Mommy made Russ sleep on the couch."

"Ah," Tempe nodded. "And Booth and I are still talking."

"Yeah. So are you mad at him?" Jordan dipped some broccoli into her cheese sauce and popped it into her mouth, then looked back up at Tempe.

And instead of immediately lying and saying that yes, she was mad at Booth, she paused. What was the point? Jordan obviously already knew they weren't mad at each other, knew that there was something more going on. Knew their secret.

"No," she finally said, "I'm not really mad at Booth." She speared a tomato with her fork and decided to be frank. "What else do you know, Jordan?"

The little girl shrugged, mixing the rest of her broccoli in with her mac-n-cheese. "I know Agent Booth really likes kissing you." Off Tempe's look, she added, "I asked him, when you were talking to the doctor and Abby was sleeping. And I know that you really didn't fight, but you pretended to 'cause you don't want Dr. Jack and Angie and Mommy and Russ to know about the kissing. Don't worry about your secret, Tempe, I won't tell anyone." She smiled. "I'm a good secret-keeper."

Tempe smiled back. "I bet you are, Jordan. And thank you for keeping my secret."

"Oh, you're welcome." The little girl shrugged. "Are you going to marry Agent Booth?"

She choked. "What? Why?"

Jordan shrugged again. "Because that's what you do. You fall in love and get married and have babies."

"Oh." Pushing her now-empty plate away, Tempe studied Jordan. "I don't know, kiddo. It's a long way off, and I can't read the future, so … I just don't know."

Jordan looked up from her plate. "That's okay, Tempe. I was just …" her eyes went big.

"Just what, Jordan?" Tempe raised an eyebrow.

"Just … wondering." She went back to pushing the remains of her dinner around, and Tempe was about to ask her another question when she felt a pair of hands drop onto her shoulders.

"Hey." She looked up into Booth's smiling eyes and couldn't stop a smile in response.

"Hey. How'd the conversation with Rebecca go?"

"Fine. She's going to explain everything to him so he's not scared or surprised tomorrow, and she's also letting me reschedule for another full weekend soon." He sat down and stole one of Jordan's remaining pieces of broccoli, grinning and waggling his eyebrows at them while he chewed.

"That's good." Tempe checked her watch. "Abby should be out of surgery soon. Should we head back up to the waiting room?"

Booth and Jordan agreed, and after disposing of their trays, plates and trash in the proper receptacles, they left the hospital cafeteria.

"Hey Tempe," Jordan said, taking hold of her hand. "I know something else."

"What?" She was almost afraid to ask.

"I know you didn't throw away that bag from the gift shop."

"I didn't?" She pretended to be surprised. "What do you think that means?"

Jordan grinned. "I think it means that you got me something."

"You think so?"

"I do."

"Hmm. Well, I think you may be right. We'll just have to wait until Abby's out of surgery to see though, huh?"

"Man!"

* * *

Tempe woke with a start. She quickly glanced around the hospital room, trying to figure out what had woken her, and it wasn't until her cell vibrated against her stomach again that she realized. 

"Hello?"

"Tempe?"

"Russ?" She was now fully awake, and she glanced at the clock as she got up from a sleeping Booth's lap. It read three in the morning, and she suddenly felt a lot more tired. The past day and a half had been really, really long. She stepped into the hallway and carefully shut the door.

"Tempe, I just got a message from the night receptionist here. What's the emergency?"

"Um, it's not really an emergency anymore. She just now gave you the message? I left it with her hours ago!"

"Yeah, apparently the day lady forgot about it, and the night one was cleaning up after her and found it … Tempe, what happened?"

She sat down in the waiting room and sighed. "Abby woke up yesterday morning with a fever, and she said her tummy hurt. So I called your pediatrician –"

"He's an idiot."

"I know. And he basically said nothing useful, so I called Booth –"

"I thought you weren't talking."

"We weren't, but he's the only other person I know with a kid. So he came over, and her fever went up, then she vomited, and we took her to the emergency room."

"Oh my God, Tempe! Is she okay?"

She sighed and wrapped her arm around herself. "She's fine now. She had appendicitis, Russ. I signed a bunch of forms and she had the surgery. They said it went well, and she really seems okay. A bit drugged, but she's sleeping soundly. But God, Russ - I was so scared!"

"But she's okay. And even if you were scared, you did all the right things, Tempe. You called the idiot doctor and took her to the hospital and signed all the papers. She'll be fine because of you."

"I guess so. I know so. I just wish …"

"That you could have prevented it? Welcome to parenting, Tempe. And hey – you're a scientist, you know how these things work."

"Yeah."

There was a moment of comfortable silence, then Tempe remembered why she had the girls in the first place.

"Did you already ask her, Russ?"

She heard him sigh. "No, I was saving that for tomorrow … today, now. But I'll wake her up and tell her about Abby in a few minutes, and she'll want to leave as soon as possible, so … I don't know when I'll have another chance."

"I'm sorry, Russ," she said sincerely, knowing that he'd been planning this weekend, this surprise, for awhile.

"Yeah, me too."

Another comfortable, sleepy silence, then Russ yawned. "I'm sorry, Tempe. I gotta go tell Sarah and try to get some sleep so I can drive later. We'll see you sometime today, I guess."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Russ."

"Goodnight, Tempe."

She made her way back to Abby's room and quietly opened the door. Abby was still sleeping soundly, as was Jordan, flat on her back on a nearby cot. Booth was awake in the chair, and she headed over and curled back up in his lap, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

"That was Russ?"

She nodded.

"They're coming back?"

She nodded again.

"Did he have a chance to propose?"

"No," she said softly. He sighed against her hair, and his arms tightened around her.

"You okay?"

"I am now." She smiled against his neck. "I am now."

Please remember to read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated; flames will be used to melt all the damn snow here in Colorado. (Yeah, that's me, buried under all that white stuff. Shoveling is the pits, dudes.)


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Chapter Fourteen will be up in two weeks. It's going to be really freaking long, too - think Season Two with Goodman, no Cam, and a secret B/B relationship. Enjoy.

**Chapter Thirteen: A Kiss to Build a Dream On**

_July Twenty-second_

"Hey, sweetie," Angela whispered, poking her head around the door and smiling. Tempe gave her a weary smile in return.

"Hey."

Angela came through the doorway into Abby's hospital room, her arms occupied with a large vase of yellow roses. "From Jack, Zack and I," she said, finding a spot and setting them down. "Where are Jordan and Booth?"

Tempe stretched, raising her arms above her head and yawning. "Booth took Jordan back to my place to change her clothes and get some entertainment … stuff. Abby's been a little bored, and they don't want her doing anything too physical, so they're getting books and markers and who knows what else. And they're picking up Parker after."

"Ah. Well, I brought some of my art supplies, so I can help keep them all entertained."

"Thanks," Tempe said gratefully.

"No problem, sweetie. And how are you doing?"

Tempe sighed. "It's been very interesting, Ange. I understand the biological need to protect a society's young, but to actually feel it to such a degree … it was intense."

"Meaning you were scared?" Angela asked sympathetically.

"Terrified," Tempe replied.

"Well, like you said, sweetie, that's normal. And now you have no need to worry – you did everything right and Abby's just fine."

"I know. And Russ said the same thing last night."

Angela settled into the room's other chair. "Speaking of Russ – when are he and Sarah getting here?"

Tempe checked the time. "He called around six this morning to say that they were leaving, and it's about a ten hour drive, so they should be here in around four hours or so."

"Oh, good," Angela said, smiling. "That leaves you with plenty of time to take my car, run home, eat lunch, shower, and come back. More than enough time, really."

"What? No, Ange, I can't leave Abby. She'll freak out when she wakes up –"

"I'll be here, and she knows me. Seriously, Bren, you need the break and the time to yourself. I know you, and while I know you adore those girls, I know you also need a chance to think everything through."

Tempe sighed. _Angela's right. And a shower would be nice …_

"Okay," she finally said. "Just let Abby know where everyone is when she wakes up. And tell Booth when he gets back."

Angela grinned. "I'm so glad you two made up." She gave a happy sigh, and Tempe grinned.

"Yeah. I still can't believe some of the things he said, but we talked, and things are better."

"Good. Well, here are my keys. Have fun, don't worry, and try not to hurry back."

Tempe stood up and took the keys, giving her friend a smile. "Thanks, Ange."

"Shoo, sweetie," the artist replied, already taking out her sketchbook.

Tempe shooed.

* * *

A party was going by the time she returned two hours later. Booth had somehow managed to convince the nurses to let him hook his PlayStation2 to the TV in the corner, and he, Angela, and the three kids were taking turns playing Katamari Damacy. Three more chairs had also been brought in, and Tempe had a feeling that Booth's charming smile had something to do with both. 

She leaned over and kissed Abby's forehead, then asked how she was feeling.

The little girl made a face. "My tummy hurts when I laugh," she said, "and the food is yucky. But I felt yuckier yesterday."

"That's good, sweetheart," Tempe replied, kissing her forehead again before taking a seat between Abby and Angela.

The latter turned to her with a smile. "Jack said he'd be by in a little bit. He had something to check on in the lab, and then he was heading over here. Zack won't be in though; Hodgins is making him work on his thesis."

"Good," Tempe said. Zack had put off his thesis for far too long. If he didn't finish it soon, Goodman would have to ask him to leave the Jeffersonian. He couldn't be a grad student assistant forever.

She spent the afternoon watching Booth and the kids play video games, talking with Angela, and making sure Abby was still feeling okay.

Hodgins showed up a little after three, bearing more video games (including something called Karaoke Revolution, which Tempe flat out refused to play), several board games, and an offer to get pizza when dinnertime rolled around.

Conveniently, Russ and Sarah arrived at five, when the doctor was checking Abby. Booth, Parker, and Hodgins had left to get the promised pizza, and Angela had disappeared into the woman's restroom, leaving Abby, Jordan and Tempe.

Sarah spent the first ten minutes alternating between crying, hugging Abby and Jordan, and questioning the doctor. Judging by the weary look on Russ' face, Tempe guessed that the car ride had been filled with much of the same, with maybe more crying.

Sarah finally let the doctor leave, satisfied that she had good answers to all her questions, and turned to Tempe. She drew her into a hug, squeezing hard, and whispered, "thank you."

* * *

The pizza boxes had been discarded, a fight between Abby and Parker had been broken up, and Sarah had soundly beaten Angela and Hodgins at the karaoke game. Sitting on Russ' lap in the chair beside her, Sarah gave Tempe a gentle poke and murmured, "Will you show me where the bathroom is?" Tempe nodded, and as they left the room, she noticed Russ moving over to Abby's bed. 

In the restroom, Sarah disappeared into a stall while Tempe lingered in front of the mirror, glaring at an odd kink in her hair and trying futilely to smooth it out.

"So," came Sarah's slightly disembodied voice, "how scared were you?"

Tempe let out a small laugh. "Very."

The toilet flushed and Sarah came out, grinning. "Boy, do I know that feeling," she said, washing her hands. "It's not easy, raising kids. It's never easy. But God, it is so worth it."

Tempe didn't reply as Sarah grabbed a paper towel and turned to her, studying her face.

"You don't want kids, do you." It wasn't really a question, and Tempe was surprised to hear none of the disbelief she usually heard from others.

"No," she finally said, "I don't."

Sarah nodded. "Because you were a foster child?"

Tempe shrugged. "That's one of the reasons. I'd never want a child of mine to go through what I did. And there's so much violence in this world – I'd hate to bring a kid into that, into my job." She paused and looked away. "And I don't really think I'd be a good mother."

She could feel Sarah studying her, but the other woman didn't say anything. Finally, Sarah threw the paper towel away.

"Ready to go back?"

Tempe nodded, and turned to leave, but Sarah's hand stopped her at the door.

"For the record, Temperance, I think you'd be an excellent mother."

For once, she recognized the compliment for what it was.

* * *

One of the night nurses was leaving the room as they walked up, and she stopped them with a quick smile. 

"Visiting hours are over in thirty minutes. You can stay, of course," she nodded at Sarah, "but everyone else is going to have to leave."

Sarah nodded in agreement and asked about Abby's condition, and Tempe headed into the room. Parker and Booth were now engaged in Candy Land, and Hodgins, Angela and the girls were watching a movie about a mouse in a cowboy hat.

"I think I'm going to leave soon," Hodgins said as Sarah came in behind her. "I have a whole lot of nothing planned for tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep."

Angela rolled her eyes as Tempe sat beside her. "I need to leave soon too, but at least I have plans for tomorrow."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Hodgins countered.

"Laundry. I'm getting down to my granny panties, and that's always a sure sign," Angela said primly.

Sarah snorted as she settled in at the head of the bed, Abby in her lap, Jordan cuddled next to them. "I remember those days. Seems that all I wear now are granny panties." She shot a sultry look towards Russ, and Tempe fought a small shudder.

They were watching Parker beat Booth when Jordan said, "hey, Mommy?"

Sarah turned to look at her. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Will you marry Russ?"

Abby, still in her lap, held out a small, black velvet box. "Please, Mommy?"

Sarah stared at her daughters, then at Russ. "That was what this weekend was about?"

He shrugged. "Well, that and your birthday." But he looked nervous, and Tempe knew he was scared she'd say no. He didn't have to worry.

"Oh my God, yes! Yes!"

And suddenly Sarah was in his arms, kissing him, and everyone was cheering, and a nurse was bringing in a cake. Booth pulled a bag from beneath the bed and took out plastic plates, cups, napkins and forks, while Hodgins reached into his bag and took out a bottle of champagne.

And Tempe suddenly knew that Booth and Hodgins had know this was going to happen, had been prepared for this moment and hadn't told her, and she was about to smack one or the both of them when Russ pulled her into his arms.

"She said yes, Tempe," he whispered into her ear. "I'm getting married!"

And Tempe knew that this was one of the happiest moments of her life.

She was getting her family back.

Pease remember to read and review. Comments and criticisms are appreciated; flames will be used to destroy the pimple taking over my face.


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